


Let Me Be Me

by EnolaRaven



Category: Peter Pan - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-03
Updated: 2003-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-11 23:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 155,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnolaRaven/pseuds/EnolaRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has a secret, something so hidden that even the Eternal Youth has repressed all memory of it. What happens when Hook and his pirates discover the truth? How will Peter Pan cope with the consequences? Based on Fox's PP&P.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Peter Pan?

Let Me Be Me

Chapter 1

 _Thank Heaven for little girls,_ Hook thought in amusement as he waited patiently in the brush. He decided once and for all that he liked Wendy Darling, and that Peter Pan had done him an immense favor by bringing her to Neverland to act the part of a mother. If he could, he'd try to not kill her in his quest to eliminate Pan, but he wasn't making any promises. Before Wendy's arrival, getting to Peter had been nearly impossible. Pan and his Lost Boys had been feral, living only for the moment and their next big adventure. Coming across them unawares on the island was unheard of, and they never kept to any predictable routine. Once they'd pegged the pirates as mortal enemies, it had been nearly impossible to capture any of them.

But now… Hook smiled evilly to himself as he thought about how different it was now, since Wendy came. The headstrong mother hen had changed Pan and his boys more than she realized (more than Pan himself realized, else he'd never stand for it). Hook figured that Tinker Bell saw the change, and that's why the pixie disliked the little girl so much. No, Wendy had taken charge the moment she arrived, bringing her rules and ideals, coercing the hapless boys into conforming to them.

Rules and ideals – they were noble concepts and good things to have, but only if you knew when it was time to break the rules and throw your ideals out the window. If you couldn't adapt your sensibilities to the moment, you became a slave to those rules and ideals; you became vulnerable and predictable.

Peter Pan, the Eternal Youth, so-called Lord of Neverland, and nemesis of Captain James Hook, had become both vulnerable and predictable. And it was all thanks to Wendy Darling. Yes, he would have to spare her, so she could see just how much she had mattered to Pan once the boy was dead. _Perhaps I'll leave her his heart and a nice bouquet of flowers…._

She had instilled some of her ideals in the boys, giving them a moral and social compass they'd lacked. The boys had previously had a sense of right and wrong, and generally did what they thought was right – but they'd mostly done what they'd wanted to do without a care for anyone else. Life had been a game for them. But now they did what was right because Wendy said it was right and not because they felt it was so. That made Pan vulnerable. The boy always had had buttons that Hook could push, to goad him into reacting the way he wished, but the buttons had been difficult to find and generally changed from day to day. But now, they were easy to find and they were the same every time.

Wendy herself was his biggest vulnerability – capturing her as bait was a guaranteed way to lure Pan to him, and he came faster and worried more for her than for any other Lost Boy. She filled his head with ideas of what was proper and how one should act. They were lessons Pan frequently forgot, but he was quick to fall into line when she became vexed at him, so eager to maker her happy was he. And Wendy's naïve nobility was so easy to manipulate. She had too much faith in an adult's word, still believing that if a man swore as a gentleman, then by some magic it must be true. Pan knew better, he'd always known that adults lie faster and better than children; but once again, he deferred to Wendy in the end. Hook stifled a chuckle as he recalled some of the arguments between Wendy and Pan over whether to trust Hook's word. Pan always had the right of it in the start, but somehow the girl always managed to make him give in. She'd make a formable wife to some hapless man someday. Hook wouldn't be surprised if she managed to talk Peter into leaving with her and growing up, just so she could marry him and continue nagging him until she drove him into an early grave. _Now that's a fun thought,_ Hook mused gleefully. _It would be an excellent incentive to let him live, if I knew that would be his fate._

But it was Wendy's rules that were going to kill Peter Pan shortly. Like most housewives and mothers that Hook had known, she had a passion for cleanliness and order (passions which Hook shared). The boys were to be in bed at certain times and take their meals regularly. They took naps and had story times according to her schedule. It was odd that in a land that ignored the passage of time, there could live within it a child so ruled by the hands of a clock. Like all boys, Pan and his followers protested the rules and took glee in getting around them, but in the end they followed along to please the little mother. And today – well today was bath day.

The pirates had found this suspiciously convenient waterfall quite by accident, but then, they found most everything in Neverland by accident, so they hadn't been surprised. The scene seemed deliberately designed for bathing, yet it also appeared to be a natural creation (which also seemed normal for Neverland… just look at Hook island in Kid's Creek Bay). There was a small cliff with a small waterfall going over its edge, the flow being about ten feet high and three feet wide at the bottom. There was a wide rock at the base that a person could stand quite easily upon while letting the deluge pour over them – a perfect shower. A foot below the rock was a pool of water, but where it drained from there was a mystery since there were no surface outlets. It was a combination bath and shower, in a sunny area yet concealed on all sides below the cliff by thick hedges and brambles. If it hadn't been for Mullins coming upon it from above via the cliff, they never would have bothered forcing their way through the brush to discover this place.

It had been a few weeks ago when Mullins had come to Hook with this discovery, adding that a Lost Boy was using it as a bath. The pirates had crept here and watched as the boy finished and left, to be replaced not long after with another boy. Hook had decided to stay his hand until he had devised the best way to exploit this discovery. It presented a potential ambush site, and he didn't want to run them away from it by attacking half cocked.

The children's habits here were strange. They came on random days as a group, bathing in their swimming clothes together. The girl insisted that if nothing else, they use soap behind their ears before they left, and the rest of the so-called bath time was spent splashing and playing. But once a week, like clockwork, they came one at a time in the morning to take a proper bath. He'd observed their weekly ritual three times, and he still hadn't found what he wanted. The ambush would be perfect: each boy (except twins and Michael) came alone and took their time washing and drying, leaving them vulnerable; the sound of the waterfall would mask the approach of booted feet; and Hook knew that while one boy bathed, there were no others even within earshot of the pool. The only problem with the plan was Pan. He'd seen all the Lost Boys take their turns. They'd even been present when Wendy had bathed, though the men had all obligingly turned away from seeing the little girl nude. They came in the same order and at pretty much the same time of day. But Hook had yet to find Pan here. The boy _had_ to wash – Wendy wouldn't allow him to get out of this, bath time being as ingrained a duty to her as bed time and meal time. The question was: _when_ did he do it?

Hook glanced eastwards, noting the glow that preceded sunrise. They'd never come this early before, but Hook was determined to sit all day if they had to, to catch Peter Pan alone and unarmed. He himself was hidden in the brush nearest the waterfall, Mason and Jukes were atop the cliff, hidden with a net, while the rest of the crew were hiding at intervals around the pool, thereby surrounding the place and covering any exits. Even if the brat flew, which was likely, he'd find Johnny net waiting to embrace him. The trap was set; now they waited for the right prey to step within.

There was a slight rustle to Hook's left, and he heard Starkey murmur "He's here." The Captain looked up and grinned when he saw the brown-clad youth hovering over the pool.

"Steady, men," Hook murmured back, more to keep himself in check than his men. The plan was to wait until Pan was busy with his bath, when he'd be most likely to let his guard down. Then Hook would strike and the boy's death would be assured.

Peter alighted by the pool, stifling a yawn and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He hated bathing and using soap. To him, it seemed an awful waste of time to clean up when he was just going to get dirty again. He could be waking the early birds right now and racing them to be the first to catch a worm, but instead he had to stand under the cold water and scrub a week's worth of hard-earned dirt off his body.

 _The things one does for love,_ he thought wryly as he sat on a stump and began removing his boots. It was for Wendy he did this, for the girl that had become the mother his heart had missed for so long. He loved it when she smiled at him, knowing he'd pleased her. When she became cross at him, it filled him with fear that she'd leave – so he always tried to make her happy. Tinker Bell insisted that if he was going to bathe then he had to do it early in the morning, when both night and day creatures slept. Peter went along with her suggestion, since at that time everything was asleep and there was nothing to play with. Tink also said that it was wrong to look at someone naked and to let them see you naked, and Wendy agreed with her. Peter didn't know about things like that, but if those two agreed on anything, it _must_ be true.

Peter untied his hair, running his fingers through the tangled knots. Wendy would brush it for him when she woke, which made washing his hair worth the effort. He'd sit at her feet while she worked on it, and for that time her attention would be completely his. It was nice, every once in a while, to sit back and let someone else take care of him, to comfort and love him. It was lonely being the leader all the time and being responsible for everyone else. Not that Peter would have it any other way… but sometimes to let go was nice.

With a final, resigned sigh, Peter pulled off his shirt, unclasped his belt and removed his shorts. He dashed to the pool and dove in, making a gigantic splash. The water was bitterly cold and he was instantly wide awake. He began swimming around briskly, warming himself with his exertions and having a bit of fun before he got down to business.

 _Hurry up, boy,_ Hook thought impatiently as Peter did laps around the pool. He was just deciding to invoke the contingency plan when the boy swam to the falls and pulled himself out of the water to stand on the rock. It was obvious that Pan was at ease: he never looked around, going straight for the cascade to stand under it, letting the water flow over him.

Hook smirked as he stared at the boy's bare backside, deciding that now was the time. He stepped confidently out of the brush, drawing his sword with a predatory gleam in his eye. As long as Peter stood on the rock, he was safely out of sword reach. That's why Hook had brought the net. He glanced up at the top of the short cliff and nodded to Mason, who hefted the net and prepared to cast it the instant he saw Pan. Ready at last, Hook stood at the edge of the pool and called out.

The rushing water was loud, but not so loud that it could mask the sound of Hook's voice. "Pan!" came the call, and Peter spun in surprise. He froze momentarily in shock when he saw Hook glaring at him, a cruel, triumphant smirk on his face. In an instant, Peter took in the situation: pirates ranged to either side, his clothes and dagger behind Hook by the stump, himself exposed and unarmed against five pirates. He reacted immediately, choosing flight over fight, and launched himself into the air. He didn't see that the men's mouths opened in shock and that Hook dropped his sword, nor did he hear the gasps and shocked expletives the men muttered. He strove for the freedom of the sky and cried out in denial when the netting fell over him. It wrapped around him, constricting his movements as he became entangled in it. He was falling then, and even as he realized this he splashed into the pool's cold water and sank.

Hook, stunned by what he'd beheld, stared helplessly as the youth leapt into the air. He saw the net cocoon the body, saw the child fall into the water and sink. But he stood and stared at the pool, confused, as the form below the surface struggled in its bonds.

"It couldn't be," he whispered, "there's no way!"

"Cap'n!" Mason yelled as he and Jukes scrambled down the cliff to join the rest of the crew. "You gonna let 'im drown?"

Hook blinked and shook himself as Mason's words registered. _That couldn't be Pan. I have to know!_ With a growl, Hook threw his hat and coat to the side and dove into the water.

It was only eight feet to the bottom, not far to swim but plenty far enough to drown. In moments, Hook had reached the wriggling shroud. He could see the eyes wide with fear and desperation as small hands worked frantically, seeking the opening to the net. Hook snagged the ropes with his claw and surged towards the surface, towing the bundle with him. He found air and pulled the child's head out of the water, feeling a flush of relief when he heard the gasp of breath, followed by a hacking cough as small lungs sought equilibrium. _Now to find out what in perdition is going on._

Peter took a deep breath to calm his coughing and tried to gather his thoughts to consider his options. It was hard, though; his every instinct was screaming at him to get away. He'd had numerous close calls with drowning in his life, and that wasn't even counting his dealings with the treacherous mermaids. But he was still shaken by this latest one. He forced himself to remain still, knowing that if Hook's strong arm released him, he'd sink again. He was too tangled in the net to be able to swim. So he let himself be pulled along as Hook swam for the shallows, and as soon as they were on dry land he began struggling to free himself of the man's embrace.

"Smee!" Hook yelled. "Fetch my cloak!" He held up the writhing bundle to examine his catch and verify what his eyes had shown him for an instant before. "Impossible," he breathed as he took in the child's body. He narrowed his eyes and glared. "Who are you, girl?"

Peter didn't know how to answer that. He _was_ highly insulted, though, that Hook not only didn't remember him, but the man also had called him a girl. "Have you been drinking, Codfish?" Peter snapped in annoyance. "Let me go or I'll take your other hand!" He saw Hook's face darken in anger, then saw how the man's eyes traveled down his body again, staring at him in a way that made Peter uncomfortable. He flushed in embarrassment and looked away, only to realize with horror that _all_ the pirates were gawking at him. "At least give me my clothes back, Captain," he mumbled, trying to cover himself in the net.

Hook dragged his eyes away from the naked girl in his grip and realized that his men were also staring at her. He yanked his cloak from Smee and hurriedly wrapped her in it, net and all, hiding her from their eyes. "Collect her clothes, you perverts!" he barked. "My apologies, miss," he said politely, looking back at the girl, "but you look a lot like Peter Pan. Can it be that you are his sister?" Hook was sure he'd have heard by now if the boy had any blood kin, but he found himself desperately praying that this was the answer to his mystery.

The bit of gratitude Peter had felt towards Hook for covering him evaporated, replaced by anger. "I'm not a girl!" he yelled, "I'm Peter Pan!"

Hook gave the girl an impatient shake. "Quit with this foolishness! We've seen you naked, and you are without a doubt a female. Not even the unluckiest bastard in the world would be cursed enough for me to make _that_ mistake from this close up. Now who are you and where is Pan?" The girl stared at him in confusion, and it dawned on the man that perhaps she really believed that she actually was Peter Pan. _Or perhaps by some witchery, this_ is _Peter Pan…_

"Mr. Jukes," Hook called, deciding that further investigation should be done back on board the ship. "Please fetch the chains, so that I can fit the lady with an ankle bracelet. I wish to set her down without worrying that she'll fly away."

"Would you STOP calling me a GIRL!" Peter yelled, tired of this stupid game. He struggled within the double envelope of net and cloak, desperate to get away. He had better things to do than hang around Codfish and be insulted. "I'm Peter Pan, the _boy_ that never grew up, and I'll prove it!"

"Really?" Hook said with a smile. One way or another, he wished this mystery solved so he could find and kill Peter Pan. If this girl was hiding Pan, he'd disprove her claim and use her as bait for the real Pan. If she, somehow, _was_ Peter Pan in feminine form… Hook really wanted to know. "Tell me, my dear, what proof do you have?"

"I'll fight you," Peter challenged. "Only _I_ can beat you, and when I do you'll believe me."

Hook laughed and the other pirates heartily joined in. "I'll not fight a woman, much less a pre-pubescent _girl_! You'll have to do better than that."

Peter growled, "Why do you think I'm a girl? Have you gone blind?"

Before Hook could answer, Mason saw fit to chime in. "Ya ain't got the proper _equipment_ ta be a man, lass."

"Equipment?" Peter echoed in confusion.

"If yer really Peter Pan," Mason continued, "surely ya've noticed you've got a piece of yerself missin'."

Peter's confusion shifted to worry. "A piece of myself? What piece? Where did it go?"

"Ya ain't got a …" Mason barked, but Hook cut him off with a snarl.

"Shut it!" Hook yelled, then turned back to stare at the bewildered prisoner. "Do you know what the difference between a boy and a girl is?"

Peter thought for a moment, "Well, Wendy's a girl and the Lost Boys are boys. You're a boy…"

Hook rolled his eyes and gave the girl a shake, "Do you know _why_ Wendy's a girl?" _Surely even Peter Pan isn't that naive._

"Because she's our mother. She likes to cook and take care of us. She wears a dress and picks flowers…"

"Physically!" Hook shouted. "What part of her body makes her different from, say, Nibs?"

"Under her clothes?" Peter asked hesitantly, taking a guess. Both Wendy and Nibs had two arms, two legs, heads, hair… all that stuff seemed to be the same.

"By Pew!" Hook sighed, trying not to get aggravated. He didn't want to have to explicitly say it in front of this girl. It was bad enough they'd beheld her naked, to have to discuss the male anatomy with her would make an inappropriate situation intolerable. "Yes, under her clothes and under his clothes, they are different."

"Really?" Peter breathed, fascinated and suddenly curious. He'd seen the boys without shirts, but not Wendy. And he'd never seen either completely uncovered. "How?"

Hook dropped the bundle in exasperation as his men fell to the ground in laughter. Peter landed on her rear, the cloak falling away from the netting to expose her again. She sat up and curled her legs under her, trying to hide from their laughter. "It's not funny," she sulked, hurt at being laughed at by pirates. _First I nearly drown, then I'm Hook's prisoner. He calls me a girl and now they think I'm stupid because I don't understand!_ "I hate you!" Peter spat, her voice cracking as she fought to not cry from embarrassment.

Hook spun, remembering that tearful, angry voice shouting that same phrase long ago. Peter Pan had said that to him as he wept, believing two of his friends had been murdered – right before he cut off Hook's hand. He knelt by the girl and peered at her face intently, trying to ignore for a moment the evidence of her gender. The loose, wet hair was unfamiliar, but her face – the eyes, the mouth, the cocky, irritated smirk she was fixing him with. "Peter Pan," Hook whispered, "is that really you?"

He remembered something then, a clash with Pan where he had nearly finished the boy. He let his eyes fall upon her right forearm and beheld a long, white scar running down it nearly from elbow to wrist. It had faded with time, but still stood out against the tanned skin. He then pushed her down onto the ground, face-first, and stared in wonder at the scar that ran diagonal across her back, from her left shoulder blade to the small of her back on the right side.

Peter shuddered as the man's cold hook traced her scar on her back, memories of that painful day stirring in her mind. Fearfully, she tired to push herself up off of the ground, to get up and fly away, but Hook's hand was pressed against her shoulder, keeping her pinned.

"Marooner's rock," Hook said softly, his voice loud in the clearing as his men watched in surprised silence. "I clawed you twice, when you offered to help me up. I tasted your blood that day."

Peter shook, the memory becoming clear. It only emphasized how perilous her plight was right now. "You clawed my arm, and I dropped my knife. When I tried to pick it up, you clawed my back. Then you licked your hook, and said my blood was sweet, like honey. Then I heard the croc's tick, and you left me behind, hoping the croc would smell my blood and come for me. I almost drowned that day, too."

 _Gall and brimstone, this_ is _Peter Pan!_ Hook realized, convinced at last. Shakily, he got to his feet and stepped back to retrieve his sword. He turned to Mullins, who was holding Pan's clothes. "Giver her those rags, then back away. All of you turn around and let her dress." Mullins complied, dropping the items, sans dagger, beside the prone body. When the men had their backs to them, Hook stood over the girl, sword at the ready. "Get up. I'm cutting the net and I want you to get dressed. If you float off the ground so much as an inch, or otherwise try to escape, I'll not hesitate to cleave you from fancy rail to rudder stock, be you boy _or_ girl."

Peter nodded her agreement and breathed a sigh of relief when the net parted at Hook's cut and fell away. She hated being restrained in any way, hated not being in control of her body and freedom. She quickly began pulling her clothes back on, not caring that Hook was watching. When she was dressed once again, she felt safer, less exposed and vulnerable. She pulled on her boots, then tied her hair back again in her normal pony tail. Finished at last, she looked at Hook again and smirked. "Now what, Captain Codfish?"

Hook stared at the Peter Pan he remembered, seeing again the boy he hated instead of the compelling girl he'd captured. "Peter Pan," he breathed in relief, "allow me to invite you for a stay on my ship."

"I decline, thank you," Peter answered mockingly, giving a bow.

"I insist," Hook snapped, putting the tip of his blade to the youth's throat for emphasis. "Mr. Jukes, please fit _Mistress_ Pan with her anklets so that we may return to the ship."

"Aye, Cap'n," Billy answered, kneeling beside Pan. He smiled at her sheepishly for a moment before he bent to snap the leg irons around her ankles. "Shall I give her the matching bracelets, Cap'n?"

"By all means," Hook answered with a chuckle, liking the irritation that blossomed in Pan's face at Billy's tease.

Billy grinned. He held up the second set of shackles and waited until Peter, after a warning growl from Hook, raised her hands and let Billy fasten the restraints around her wrists. "They look stunning on you, ma'am," he said, unable to help himself.

Peter turned red, "You are so dead, Billy Jukes."

Billy's smile broadened as he stepped back, "You're really pretty when you're angry, Miss Pan."

That was it for Peter. It was too many insults for her to bear, and above all else, she hated being laughed at by pirates. She screamed in rage and leapt at the grinning Jukes, ignoring the pain in her throat as she brushed past the tip of Hook's sword and it parted her skin. Billy barely even had time to realize what was happening before she slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. Peter sat on the boy's stomach, pinning him, as she seized him by the throat and squeezed. "I'm a BOY!" Peter yelled as she throttled him.

"Enough!" Hook roared as he yanked Peter off his gunner. The girl continued to struggle, shouting what sounded like curses in another language. Hook wrapped his arms around her chest and squeezed, cutting off her breath until she stilled. He released the pressure a bit and growled into her ear, "Do that again, Pan, and I will knock you out and drag you to my ship. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Peter wheezed, trying to catch her breath.

Mullins had rushed to Billy when Pan attacked, and helped the boy sit up while Hook reigned in the furious prisoner. He was a bit confused to see that Billy was still grinning, despite the dark marks Peter's fingers had made on his neck. "Something funny, lad?" he muttered as he helped the gunner up.

"Just relieved, Robert," Billy muttered back, leaning over to glance at Peter. He saw blood running down her neck and gasped. "Cap'n! She's bleedin'!"

Hook frowned and set the girl down, then spun her around roughly to get a look at her. His heart skipped when he first beheld the blood on her neck and he frantically wiped at it in an effort to gauge the severity of the wound. Peter jerked away at the painful examination, but Hook merely pulled her back and continued. After a moment, the man shook his head and smiled. "A scratch, albeit a nasty one." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and folded it, then pressed it against the wound. "Hold this here, Pe… Pan," Hook stumbled over her name. It didn't seem proper to call her 'Peter', that being a masculine name. "It will cease bleeding after awhile; hold it there until it does." He grimaced and stood again. "Enough dawdling! The next brat will be here soon, and I want to be well away by then. Time to escort the lady to our ship!"

Peter remained sullenly silent, still upset that these stupid grown-ups kept saying she was a girl. _If they insist on addressing me that way, I'll simply ignore them until they stop._ She kept the cloth pressed firmly against her throat, a bit alarmed by how red it had become already. She glared at Mullins as the man tied a stout rope around her waist, and was relieved when he didn't make any comments or look at her strangely like Billy had. Another moment later, Hook had the end of the rope and, with a slight tug to indicate she should walk, they began a rather quiet journey to the longboat.

A few times along the way, Peter felt a strange prickle at the nape of her neck and knew she was being stared at. Each time, when she looked around, she found that Billy Jukes was watching her from behind and to the left. After the fourth time, Peter rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, hoping a bit of rudeness would make him stop. Billy only smiled more and winked in reply. _Fine!_ Peter thought viciously, _a bit_ more _rudeness._ She remembered a gesture she'd seen Mason give once, one that had terribly affronted Hook and that Wendy had forbidden them to copy (had even threatened to switch them for it, which had been alarming enough to get her point across). Very deliberately, Peter raised her bound hands and extended the middle finger of her right hand, glaring at Billy.

The pirates that saw this coughed and snorted, trying not to laugh and attract Hook's attention. Billy's eyes widened a moment, and then he nodded and looked away. He didn't want to get Peter angry again, for many reasons, and he realized he must have been upsetting her more that he'd thought. He glanced at Hook, but the man continued to walk at the head of the group with Smee, holding Pan's leash. _Thank heaven he didn't see that, or he'd lash_ me _for provoking her again and…_ Billy frowned, not sure _how_ Hook would punish a girl. He shrugged when nothing came to mind and spent the remainder of the trek deliberately not looking at Pan. But that didn't stop him from thinking about her. She was, after all, the first girl he'd ever seen naked, which made today a very special day, indeed.


	2. Terror and Celebration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Peter glared at Hook and tried not to wince while Smee washed the cut on her throat. They were in a small cabin below decks, which Peter thought was odd since she'd been expecting to be locked in the brig. Instead of being chained in that all-too-familiar cell, Hook had led her down here. Jukes was currently bringing in hay and blankets for bedding, while Hook was rummaging through a chest that Mason had brought to him. Occasionally, Hook would look up from the chest (the contents of which Peter couldn't see) and stare at her, a strange smile on his face. It was definitely creepy, and Peter had to fight the fear rising within her. _Fear will get me nowhere. Fear is a prison, and I will not be caged._ At least Billy wasn't looking at her anymore, but Smee kept calling her 'lass', which was just as upsetting. All in all, Peter was quite tired of this little adventure and ready to go home. She just needed free of her chains.

Hook finally found a dress that would fit, and he smiled at it in approval. He didn't know how Peter had become a girl, but the fact was that she _was_ female right now. No girl was going to go around his ship wearing patched and torn short pants; it was indecent. Plus, Pan seemed to be in hot denial about her gender, and it was entertaining to keep her provoked by reminding her of it. Hook was very amused by the whole situation, and he really wanted to get his hands on the magic that had affected this change.

 _If I wish to learn anything about it, I suppose I should question him – her – before I give her the dress._ Hook faced Pan again and waited while Smee finished putting the bandage on her throat. When the bosun was done and had left, Hook asked his question. "How long have you been female, Pan?"

"I'm not!" Peter snapped, glaring at Hook. "I wish you would stop saying that. It's not funny anymore."

 _Oh, but it is,_ Hook thought, but kept his face serious. "You _are_ a girl, Peter, I promise you that I'm not joking. Is this some new game of yours? Perhaps someone is playing a magical prank on you by changing you."

"Nothing's changed," Peter answered. "I'm exactly the same as I've always been. I'm still me."

Hook could understand that it was possible for Pan to be so ignorant that she didn't know the physical differences between males and females. But surely the boy – girl – whatever – would have noticed that her body had changed… _'Nothing's changed,' she said. Gall and brimstone, has she_ always _been female?_ Hook felt his chest tighten and he looked at Pan in rising horror. _A girl, a little slip of a_ girl _, cut off my hand? I've been tormented all this time by a_ little girl _?_ It was preposterous, it was an insult, and it was an affront to his sensibilities. "You've always been a girl, then," Hook said coldly. "Well, I shall just have to question your friends about that when I capture them. Until then, you will act and dress appropriately." Hook unfastened Pan's chains and glared at her. "Take off your clothes."

Billy, who was putting the last touches on the bedding, froze.

Peter narrowed her eyes warily. "Why?"

Hook reached into the trunk and pulled out the yellow dress he'd picked out. "You will wear this as long as you are on my ship."

Peter burst out into hysterical laughter. "Oh, Codfish!" she gasped as the laughter wracked her. "You've lost it! There's no way you're getting me in that!"

Hook smiled thinly, anticipating the imminent fight. It didn't matter if Pan was a girl or boy, whether she'd been this way all along, or for today only – this was the impudent brat that had cut off his hand and fed it to the croc. This was the one against whom he'd sworn dire vengeance. Right now, Hook was too intrigued by the situation to care about killing Pan. But this was _his_ ship, and Pan was _his_ prisoner, and he would not stand for the brat's customary defiance. "Billy," he growled dangerously, "Go. Now. Take the trunk and lock the door behind you."

 _Oh, God,_ Billy thought, looking at Hook in alarm. _What's he going to do to her?_ But he saw the look on his Captain's face and knew that it was time to go. As drawn to Pan as he was, she was still the enemy, and Billy didn't see the point in them both being beaten for defiance. "Aye, Cap'n," he said briskly and scurried from the room, dragging the trunk behind him. Whatever happened now, he wanted no part of it, so he quickly made his way to the galley for breakfast with the other men.

Peter had sobered up rather quickly when she heard Hook order Jukes out. She also recognized the look in Hook's eyes and steeled herself for a fight. She was weaponless, locked in the room with the huge man, but she smiled anyway. Things always worked out somehow, opportunities always presented themselves at some point – she just had to keep calm and take any openings she could. _If I can get his sword… maybe the key… no other weapons, nothing in here but hay and… the chains!_

Peter picked up the shackles she'd worn and held them at the ready, prepared to use them to block any blows or to swing them as a weapon. "I'm not wearing that, and I'd like to see you try to make me."

"Put that down," Hook snarled, "or I'll have to hurt you."

"Really? If I'm a girl like you claim, then isn't it against your rules to fight me?" Peter asked, deciding he could play this game too.

"Don't make the same naïve assumptions that Wendy makes," Hook countered, "by trying to use my sensibilities as a gentleman against me. When it comes to my ship, my authority aboard this ship, and _any_ dealings with you, I am a pirate to the core." He hefted his sword as Peter began floating, wondering if he could subdue the brat with a minimum of bloodshed. He really didn't want to fight a girl; it _did_ bother his sensibilities enough that he doubted he could actually do it. But Peter couldn't be sure of that and Hook was inclined to keep up his bluff. "Now be a good girl, drop the chain and put on your dress."

Peter caught a glimpse of the key, hanging on a cord around Hook's neck. _My only way out is with that. I have to get it from him._ Deciding to get this over with sooner than later, Peter took the offensive and attacked. Hook held all the advantages and they both knew it. Peter's only real hope was to get lucky and render Hook unconscious, or at least to stun him, with a blow to the head with the manacles. There wasn't enough room to make use of her flying, limiting her to only managing to dart over or under the vicious sword and claw swipes aimed at her. Any time she got close enough to bring the swinging chain in range, her blow was met with the blade or the hook. But she was young, energetic, agile and cunning, and she knew that as long as she persisted, Hook would eventually tire and give her the opportunity she needed.

Hook was too busy struggling with his warring ideals to end the fight quickly. He should have snagged the chain and run the flitting nuisance through with his sword, but he couldn't. Yes, his morals as a gentleman urged him to not harm her, reminding him that a man should never strike a lady. Generally, if he found he needed to kill a woman (and he had killed some in his life), he never used his hands or a blade. Hanging, drowning, poison… those were acceptable and not as violent as a beating or a sword. He'd never skewer Wendy Darling, and he found that he was against doing it to a female Pan. This reluctance was reinforced by his fascination with the new situation. Peter Pan had always fascinated him, and at times his curiosity about the eternal youth had stayed his hand in the past. He really _wanted_ to see her in that dress, wanted to see how she looked in it. He wondered if she would be beautiful if she ever grew up. And he had a growing desire to tame her, to mould her into the role that was her birthright.

These thoughts tempered his strikes, making him parry and defend and pull back on his attacks. But the pirate in him clamored for the blood of Pan, and the longer this dragged on, the angrier he became. This was the brat that took his hand… this was the cocky youth whose very existence was an affront to everything he held sacred – especially now that he knew she was a girl. This – Hook's thoughts disappeared in a blinding flash of pain as Peter finally scored a hit and the heavy iron manacle slammed into the captain's temple.

Hook heard a clang as his sword dropped from his suddenly weak fingers, but he didn't care. The world spun and he felt warmth on the side of his face, the side that was in agony. He fell to his knees and closed his eyes, trying to collect himself and push past the sudden lethargy that consumed him. Distantly, he heard a familiar crow and he focused on it. He knew that sound like he knew his own heartbeat, and it filled him with rage. The rage cut through the darkness of his mind, bringing the world back into crystal clarity. He ignored the pain, wanting to cause pain of his own, and that desire, that _need_ , consumed him. He opened his eyes and saw Pan's grinning face inches from his own, and all else faded to red.

Peter felt a flush of relief when she felt the heavy manacle connect with the side of Hook's head. The battle in the close quarters had taxed her more than she'd thought it would, and it had been extremely frustrating because she couldn't maneuver as she was used to. When Hook's eyes became vacant and he fell to his knees, Peter felt a burst of pride swell in her heart. "I told you, Hook! I'm the only one that can beat you!" She laughed happily, pleased at her victory. Unable to contain herself, she threw back her head and crowed as loud as she could.

But time was short, and she could celebrate fully later when she was safely away. Hook wasn't going all the way down, unfortunately, and she knew that she had to get the key now and flee, before he regained his senses. She landed before him, ignoring the blood running from the gash on his had that indicated where the metal had cut him. Her hand closed around the key and she smiled in triumph. But before she could yank it free of the cord, Hook's strong, gloved hand closed upon her wrist, gripping her painfully.

"You'll pay for that, boy," Hook snarled and Peter looked up in alarm. The crazed look in the man's eyes sent terror through her mind.

"No!" Peter shouted and pulled back, trying to get away. The iron grip refused to lessen, instead it yanked her off her feet as Hook stood and lifted her up to dangle before him. "Let go!" Peter screamed and she swung the chain in her other hand, trying to hit the man again.

Hook parried the awkward swing easily with his claw. A quick twist and a yank, and he ripped the chain from Peter's grasp and sent it flying across the small room. "I've had enough of your defiance, boy! I gave you an order to strip, and if you won't obey then I will strip you myself!" he snarled, spittle flying from his lips.

Peter screamed in panic and covered her face with her free arm as the wicked claw swiped. It caught her cape at the neck and snagged it, then reversed and pulled it up, over her head and removing it. Hook sneered and tossed the cape aside. "One down…" he purred.

"NO!" Peter shouted again as the claw came at her. It caught cloth at her throat once more, inserting itself between the neck of her shirt and her skin. Peter stared at Hook fearfully as the claw paused there a moment, then she began kicking wildly, trying to make the man let go.

Hook roared in anger at the brat's continued defiance. He yanked at her shirt, ripping the cloth with his hook. "You," he struck again, ripping more cloth, "Will," _rip_ , "NOT," _rip_ , "Defy me," and long, tearing as the cloth gave way completely, "BOY!" He continued to claw at the offensive brown cloth until only the sleeves and a few tatters remained of the front.

Peter had quit thrashing, afraid that if she moved, Hook would cut her with his wild slashes. The man paused when most of her shirt was destroyed, so Peter once again lashed out, kicking at the arm that had ruined her shirt. The next thing she knew, her back and head were connecting with the wall, Hook having slung her into it in his fury. The impact stunned her and before she could recover, he was attacking again, throwing her to the floor.

"I'll teach you, boy!" Hook bellowed, pinning the youth on the rough wooden floor. Hand and hook worked in tandem, ripping and pulling at brown cloth, removing the last of Peter's shirt and making even quicker work of her shorts.

"Stop!" Peter screamed in terror. Being pinned down, rough hands fumbling against her body, clothes being torn away to expose her, helplessness, words and obscenities flung at her as the man hurt and humiliated her… these things were strangely familiar and terrifying. _This isn't happening, its not real!_ she thought frantically as darkness covered her mind. _Don't fight, let him finish and he'll go away when he's done. Don't make him hurt you…_ Peter stilled, her body rigid with fear. _No, stop,_ she begged silently as the terror consumed her.

Hook laughed in triumph as he jerked the last of Peter's shorts off his legs. He grinned cruelly as he yanked off the boots and looked down at the naked boy… "My God," he whispered as he beheld the naked _girl_ lying still on the floor beneath him. "My God, what was I doing?" he whispered again as the last of his rage left him. He suddenly felt sick.

Peter lay rigid on her back, her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. Tears coursed down the sides of her face and she gasped as silent sobs wracked her, her body shaking with fear. The bandage on her neck was gone and the cut was bleeding again, the scab knocked off in the struggle. There were other cuts now, scattered sporadically over her body where Hook, in his careless fury, had nicked her as he had ripped her clothes away. Hook could see dark red finger marks around her right arm where he'd held her up, and other red splotches could be seen on her arms and legs where he'd handled her too roughly.

"Peter?" Hook called, crawling to sit beside her head. The girl didn't answer, but her gasps became more frenzied. _She's hyperventilating!_ Hook realized he must have been completely out of control to allow himself to do this and terrify Peter so badly. "Calm down, Pan," he said soothingly, gently laying his hand on her shoulder. Peter flinched, but otherwise there was no change in her condition. Hook's dread increased and he grabbed the blanket off the pile of hay. "Come on," he murmured, draping the blanket over her body. He lifted the small girl up and wrapped the blanket around her better, then sat back and settled her into his lap. "I'm sorry, Pan. Calm down. Its over, I'm not going to hurt you."

He covered her mouth gently with his hand, forcing her to breathe through her nose and thus slow her breathing down. Peter jerked and tried to pull away, but he held her firmly until she stilled again. "Deep breaths, my dear," he murmured over and over until, at last, her body relaxed and her breathing slowed, deepening into a more normal rhythm. He removed his hand from her mouth and wiped her face carefully, drying her tears. She didn't flinch, and by the way her face had relaxed, Hook realized that Peter was unconscious. He shook his head and dabbed at her neck, tending to the wound there.

"I should be hanged," Hook muttered in disgust. He shouldn't have lost control, losing one's composure was a weakness of character, especially when it caused a man to harm a woman. _What did I think I was going to do when I got her naked? Wrestle her into the dress? Idiot!_ He'd let himself forget for a short while, falling back into his old anger and seeing Peter Pan as a boy again. He'd sought to injure and humiliate him. Somehow, he'd managed to do worse.

Carefully, he laid the girl on the hay, pushing the stuff around to support her body better. Next, he fastened the leg iron to one of her ankles, the other end of which was attached to a ring on the wall via a long chain. _I should have restrained you first, so you couldn't fight me and enrage me like that. I can't allow myself to fall back on old habits. Things have changed between us girl. Perhaps I will kill you yet, but I think our old ways of fighting are done._

Hook retrieved the dress and laid it near Pan, so she could dress when she awoke. He wasn't touching her again, not like that, so he wasn't going to put it on her now. "I suppose," he noted as he gathered the shredded remains of Peter's old clothes, "that I'll have a harder time seeing you as the old Peter Pan once you're dressed appropriately. I'll be less likely to harm you then. These rags are beyond salvation, so you'll not be wearing them ever again." Sighing in exasperation, he took up the lantern and left the girl to rest.

When he reached the galley, the men were finishing up breakfast. He deposited the clothes on the floor and glared at his crew. "Dispose of these. None of you are to enter Pan's room without my say-so. If I find _any_ of you have been in there, I'll hang you." With another warning glare, he stormed to his cabin to calm down and try to eat his own breakfast.

The pirates stared at each other for a moment, speechless. They'd heard the commotion, heard Pan's crow, Hook's shouts and the girl's screams. Then they'd heard the eerie quiet, which had gone on for a long time before Hook finally came out. It hadn't boded well, and the men had been debating whether they should make sure the two enemies hadn't finally killed each other.

"Smee," Starkey said at last, "the Captain was bleeding. Perhaps you should go check on the old fellow."

Smee's eyes widened in worry. He'd not seen that when Hook had come through. "Right ya are, Mr. Starkey. I'll go tend to th' Cap'n." He scurried out of the galley with a pace that belied his age.

Billy went to the pile of tattered clothes and began picking them up. He held up several large pieces, trying to figure out what they had been. He could make out what seemed to have been a sleeve, and found the cape and belt intact. Everything else was beyond recognition. "I guess the Cap'n won," Billy said as he showed the rags to the men. "He musta ripped her clothes right off her."

Mason, Mullins and Starkey exchanged looks, each man wondering exactly _what_ Hook had done to the girl. And the look each man gave the other said 'It's not our business.' Billy caught the muted looks and was confused at first. Then he frowned and stood up, a sudden worry filling him. "You don't think he hurt her, do you? We should make sure she's okay." He turned to go to the room, but Mullins caught his arm and pulled him back.

"Leave 'er, Billy," the man said gruffly. "Girl or boy, that's still the same old Pan in there. It's just the way yer lookin' at her that's different. Best not ta get in Hook's business, or he'll string ya up fer sure."

 _But I'm not seeing her different… I just feel safer seeing it now._ Billy shook his head and looked at Mullins helplessly. "But if she's hurt…"

"Why the concern, Jukes?" Starkey asked, curious. He had caught the look in Billy's eyes, and he thought he saw infatuation there.

Mason laughed suddenly, deciding to tease the gunner a bit. "Awww, has little Billy got a crush?"

Billy flushed but didn't look away. "Well…"

Mason and Starkey both began laughing, and Mason sang out, "Billy's in looove!"

"I am _not!_ " Billy shouted, embarrassed. He paused a moment, thinking of a way to respond. "But she _is_ the first girl I've ever seen naked, so that means something special, right?"

Mason and Starkey sobered abruptly and stared at him a moment. "Cripes, I keep fergettin' how young ya really are, Billy-boy," Mason said at last.

Mullins nodded and put his arm around the gunner's shoulders, a proud gleam in his eye. "Aye, it means somethin', lad. It means yer another step closer to bein' a real man." He walked Billy back to the table and made the boy sit. "Shipmates, go fetch some rum! We can't have a proper celebration; Hook'd skewer us if we took duty drunk, but today deserves a toast!"

Starkey ran to the stores and returned promptly with a bottle. Soon each pirate was holding up a glass of the red liquid and staring at a blushing Billy Jukes.

"To William Jukes," Mullins said, smiling proudly. "Genius, marksman, and loyal shipmate, and black-hearted pirate. Yer growing up into a fine man, and I'm proud ta have helped ya come this far." The other men shouted their agreement and took a drink.

"To Billy," Mason called next. "If we ever get outta this place and find a decent port, I'm takin' ya to the finest cat-house and buyin' ya a proper woman. One with curves and breasts a man can lie his head on an' sleep content. We'll make a proper man outta ya!"

Starkey held up his glass again after they'd all taken another swig. "To the Lady Pan… we musn't forget about her. I salute her for showin' our Billy the way to manhood. May she blossom into a lovely maiden, and perhaps," he gave Billy a sly wink, "perhaps one day our gunner can show _her_ the way to womanhood!"

The other men looked at Starkey doubtfully for a moment, a bit disturbed by the mental picture of Billy Jukes and Peter Pan together that way. Despite what they'd seen today, they still had a hard time imagining Pan as anything but a boy. Billy, however, blushed even more at the thought and smiled. "Works for me," he said and finished off his glass. A moment later the rest of the men joined him. The commemoration complete, the pirates went back to the deck to do their duties and see what the Captain had planned next.


	3. Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Peter shivered and burrowed further into the thin blanked. "Snuggle up, Nibs," she said sleepily, "its cold." She rolled to her left to share warmth with the boy that had slept by her side for nights innumerable, but instead of encountering Nibs's sleeping body, she rolled completely off the hay bed and found herself on a cold, wooden floor.

Fully awake now, Peter opened her eyes and stared into the blackness, confused. "Tink?" she called, needing the fairy's light. But her voice sounded flat in the room and the silence that followed was deafening. _Where am I? This isn't home,_ she wondered. _Where are my clothes?_ She wasn't supposed to be naked, not unless she was bathing… "Hook," Peter murmured, remembering now. "Hook saw me bathing and caught me."

Slowly the memory came back, the memories of the net and nearly drowning. Memories of Hook and the pirates calling her a girl, and her fight with Billy Jukes. She remembered that Hook had wanted her to wear a dress and that they'd fought about it. Her back and her head ached, and her right arm was sore… injuries from the battle. Peter vaguely remembered being stripped, but that memory filled her with unease so she danced away from it, turning her mind instead to thoughts of escape.

 _I must still be in the room,_ she decided. It was pitch black and the air had a definite chill in it. Reaching around blindly, she quickly found the blanket again and wrapped it around her body. A metallic sound caught her attention and she realized that she was chained yet again. Feeling her way along its length, she found where the chain connected to the wall.

"I wish I could see," Peter growled as she fumbled at the ring set into the wall. It was rough and she felt her fingers knock flakes of rust free, but the bolts held firm. "Come on," Peter muttered as she tired to figure out how to get free. She planted a foot to either side of the ring and pulled on the chain as hard as she could, but to no avail. Muttering a few choice words in fey, Peter stood and began exploring the room. It had been pretty sparse the last time she'd seen it, but she knew she needed to make sure.

Peter followed a wall until her chain pulled tight, then walked across the room to the opposite wall and followed it back to the bedding. She encountered no furnishings and her chain snagged nothing, verifying that the room was bare. "Well, that was useful," she sighed and sat on the haystack to think.

After a little while, her stomach gave a gurgle. Hoping a pirate would come, she yelled, "I'm hungry!" This little adventure was getting boring quickly and she needed some action to enliven the whole thing. Perhaps she could trick a pirate into letting her go. At the least, she could get some light in here. She waited for what seemed like an appropriate amount of time and then tried again. "Heeeeelloooooo!" she yelled as loudly as she could. Again she waited. "Come and kill me already, Codfish!" she yelled in exasperation and lay back down.

 _First they laugh at me. Now they're ignoring me! I hate them!_ Peter hated being ignored almost as much as she hated being made fun of, and it was inconceivable that both affronts could happen to her in one day. As her head came to rest, it encountered soft cloth instead of molding hay. Curious, Peter sat up again and lifted the strange article, trying to discover what it was.

When she determined it had sleeves, she felt a bit of hope. But when further investigation revealed that she was holding a dress, Peter snarled in disgust, wadded the hateful thing up, and shoved it deep under the hay. "I'd rather be naked!" she shouted to whoever might be listening, and wrapped the blanket around her shivering body even more tightly.

Lying back down again, Peter wondered how long it would be before her friends came to rescue her. Wendy and the boys likely wouldn't miss her for awhile, they were used to Peter going off unexpectedly for an adventure, not returning until she was ready to. But Tink usually accompanied her at those times… Peter rarely went anywhere completely alone. The fairies thought it was too dangerous. So… Tink would likely raise the alarm first. How long before they thought to look on the ship?

Peter's thoughts wandered as she lay in the darkness, and eventually they returned to her capture. "Why do you think I'm a girl? You said that boys and girls are different? How am I different now?" Peter ran her hands across her chest slowly, then down her stomach and across her thighs, trying to discover what may be different about her body today. She even touched her secret place, but everything was the same as it had always been. "I don't understand," she sighed when she finished her examination.

"I bet it's a joke," she said suddenly and smiled. "Ha, Ha, Codfish! I see now. You just said that to laugh at me. I bet you just wanted me to wear that dress so you could make a fool out of me! It won't work! Do you hear me?" But still, there was no reply.

"I'm thirsty," she called again later. Her stomach rumbled and her throat was dry, and she wondered if someone would ever come again. She hadn't eaten breakfast, and she was famished. More time passed, time in which Peter slept, paced, railed at Hook, sang, pulled at the chain on the wall, and cried in frustration, trying desperately to relieve her boredom and growing anxiety. Why hadn't Hook come back? Peter had been the man's prisoner on numerous occasions, but rarely had she ever been left alone for this long. Hook usually spent a lot of time gloating, staring at his prisoner. And he usually didn't wait this long before trying to execute her. She was helpless here, and not being in control was very frightening to Peter. She hoped that someone would come soon, whether it was one of her friends or even one of the pirates; but it was an eternity before anyone did.

Hook had been in a particularly foul mood all day, and he didn't even _try_ to hide it. His men ducked and ran at his every order, which gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction, and enabled him to stay calm enough to _not_ execute one of his men. But it wasn't enough to cheer him. Fortunately for them, Pan's brats hadn't shown yet, so they either hadn't missed their leader yet or they didn't know where he was. Considering that if Pan was in trouble, he was likely in Hook's clutches, Hook thought that the brats weren't alarmed yet. The lot of them could go to Davey Jones for all he cared, but he wanted to have a chat with Pan's pixie.

Mid-afternoon turned to early evening, and Hook contemplated going to speak with Pan again. _No,_ he decided after some thought. _If she goads me, and she_ will _, I'll do something regrettable again._ He was ashamed of how he'd handled the girl earlier. That shame irked him, keeping him in his agitated state. If he hadn't discovered Pan's secret, his violence towards the child wouldn't have upset him. _It's a shame I must treat her differently now. But it's best that I found out_ before _I killed her. Ignorance is no excuse for improper behavior._ Hook sincerely hoped Pan's gender was the result of magic and could be undone. He wanted to fight Peter Pan, to hurt him as he'd been hurt, and then to kill him… as he'd always planned. And then there was the humiliation of being bested repeatedly by an immature little wench.

Billy swallowed nervously as he approached his captain, seeing the angry scowl still firmly etched on the man's face. He didn't want to do this, he preferred going unnoticed by Hook most of the time. But he was worried, and he couldn't ignore it anymore. Steeling himself and pushing aside his fear, he approached Hook.

"Cap'n, sir? A word?" he managed to call without stammering.

"What, Mr. Jukes?" Hook snapped, still staring out at the island.

"Cap'n, is anyone gonna check on Miss Pan?"

Hook turned to glare at the boy. "Check on her, Mr. Jukes?"

Billy fought to not fidget under that stare. Fidgeting made Hook take you less seriously. "Well, sir, she's been locked up since just after dawn. No one's been in to give her any meals or water, and I can hear her sometimes calling out… I just came from down there and I think she's crying." He didn't mention that he'd caught himself several times with his hand on the latch, his worry tempting him to defy Hook's order and enter the room to see if she was alright.

Hook stared at the gunner, at a loss for which question to ask first. He clenched his fist angrily. "What were you doing down there, what is she calling out, and what do you MEAN, no one's been to check on her?" he shouted, his volume increasing with every sentence.

Billy took a deep breath. "The cabin's on my way to my work room, so I have to go by it a lot. Whenever I'd walk by her door, I could hear her. Sometimes she's asking for water, or singing or calling you names. No one's been in there 'cause you said you'd hang us. We all figured you'd been sending Smee to take care of her, but when I heard her crying I went and asked him. He said you hadn't told him to do anything for her."

Hook's irritation at himself increased tenfold. He realized he'd been brooding so much, and had been so steadfast in refusing to go down there again, that he'd forgotten that he'd forbidden anyone from seeing Pan. "Smee!" he called, catching his bosun's attention. "I need to see to Pan. I want food and water for her consumption, plus a bucket of clean water and a washcloth. Leave them outside the door to her cabin." With a wince, he remembered the small cuts he'd given her. "Bandages too, Smee."

"Aye, Cap'n," Smee said brightly as he left to comply.

"Mr. Jukes," Hook growled, "do you know what she was crying about?"

"Aside from being hungry, thirsty, chained up, and confused about finding out she's a girl, I have no idea, Cap'n," Billy answered.

Hook raised his hand, barely restraining himself from slapping the insolent gunner. He regained control, but glowered at the boy even more darkly. As a general rule, he tried to keep his fists off the boy. Billy had been beaten enough for several young lives. "Because you seem so concerned about my prisoner, and because you apparently don't have enough work to do, leaving you with plenty of time to worry about her, I'm making you her warden. From now on, you'll bring her meals to her, and if she escapes, I'll hold you personally responsible. And I promise you, you _will_ be lashed then." He grabbed the gunner by his vest and dragged him down to Pan's cabin with him.

Billy winced, but stumbled along to keep up. He knew he was in trouble now. Pan _would_ escape, she always managed to escape, so Billy knew he'd get a lashing sometime soon. But he wasn't upset, not really. He was oddly happy at being given this responsibility. It gave him an excuse to talk to her. He'd never really spoken with Peter, not in anything resembling civility, and he wanted to try to start. He wanted to find out more about the fascinating girl, and he wanted her to see him as something other than a pirate. It would make the lashing worth it.

Peter sat in the corner, pressed as far as she could manage to get into it. The contact gave her a sense of reality and security. It kept anything that might come at her in the dark from sneaking up behind her… not that it really mattered. She was still blind as a bat. But it made her feel better anyway. "Just a dream. Just a bad dream…" she repeated softly, waiting for her pulse to slow. In her dream, she'd been back in Kensington Park, hiding from a man that was hunting for her. She couldn't remember who the man had been or why he'd wanted to hurt her, but she'd been terrified of him. Everywhere she'd hidden, he'd seen her. No matter how fast she'd run, he'd always caught up. The birds hadn't been there to save her.

"Just a dream," she said again, taking another deep breath. It was fading, and as the details of the nightmare became indistinct and the memory began to fade, Peter felt herself begin to calm. She smiled a bit, feeling a bit foolish. Kensington Gardens had been her beginning place, a haven of safety and peace. It's where she'd learned magic was real. The birds there had told her tales of Neverland and given her their feathers for her bed. It was where Tink had found her, when Old Solomon had told her about the strange little boy that lived with them. _No one can hurt me there! It was safer than Neverland._

Peter heard a noise so she turned to look in the direction the noise came from. "Quit your dawdling and open the door, you lummox!" came Hook's voice.

"Finally," Peter whispered, pulling the blanket around her shoulders and stood. While she was relieved that _something_ was about to happen, she wasn't so stupid as to think that Hook's arrival was a good thing.

There was a rattle of keys at the door, then it was swinging wide. Light flooded the room, making Peter squeeze her eyes shut against the painful brightness. "Come in, Captain," she called. "Make yourself at home. Care for some tea?"

Hook repressed a smile and stepped inside. He'd been afraid that he'd terrorized the girl too much this morning, especially after Billy said he'd heard her crying. "Sitting in the dark, Pan?"

"That's what one does when they've been locked in a room with no light, Codfish," Peter snapped.

Hook frowned and went to the sconce on the wall. The candle within it had never been lit. _Stupid! I was too upset when I left and I forgot to leave her a light. Oh well, it's probably the reason she hasn't escaped yet._ He lit the candle, in case he forgot again, then turned to the girl again. "Billy tells me you were crying. Are you in pain?"

Peter opened her eyes a crack and found that it was more bearable to see. "I wasn't crying. I had a bad dream, and yes I hurt."

Hook gestured for Billy to enter and shut the door. "Oh, Pan," he said mockingly, "Did I scare you that badly? Do you often have nightmares about me?"

Peter laughed. "Why should I dream about an old codfish? I get enough of you when I'm awake, thank you."

Hook shook his head. "You won't goad me into fighting you, girl. I'm here to verify you're fed and watered, and to make sure I didn't injure you too badly before." He glared at Billy and stepped back.

Billy tried not to look at Peter as he brought the tray of food forward. The girl was still Pan, and still dangerous. Plus, he didn't want Hook to know he liked her in the slightest – it wouldn't do to have the captain question his loyalties. He'd been able to explain his odd behavior to the crew as merely a reaction to seeing her nude (though that had been a strong influence). Continued interest would be suspicious. He already had enough danger in his life that his friendship with Slightly would be discovered.

"Here's some of Cookson's stew," Billy said as he set the tray before her. "If it moves, it helps to close your eyes and chew really fast."

Peter opened her eyes a bit more and peered into the bowl. "It looks like something a troll would eat… is that a fish head?"

Billy looked in the bowl and chuckled. "Cookson must like you, he thinks that's the most nutritious part."

"You really are trying to kill me, aren't you, Captain," Peter sneered, turning away from the soup.

"It won't kill you, Pan," Hook barked, his own stomach dismayed by the sight. "It's what we'll all be having for supper shortly."

Peter glanced at Billy. "Come visit me after supper. If you're still alive, I'll eat it."

"Trust me, its better to eat it hot," Billy warned. "It gets really pasty, like glue, when it cools."

Peter actually turned green. "No wonder it's so easy to beat you pirates! Your cook's poisoning you!"

"That's enough," Hook snapped. It was best to not discuss the food, because thinking about it too much made it impossible to keep down. "Eat now, eat later, or don't eat at all… its all one to me. I've provided you with food and drink, so I've done what's proper for a prisoner. I've better things to do than chit-chat, since you have nothing to tell me that's useful. I won't kill you until I've learned how you came to be female, and since you can't tell me that, I have no use for you right now. Now, I want to make sure the cuts I gave you aren't serious. I'm sure they're not, but I have to verify that I didn't overlook anything."

Peter felt some relief that Hook wasn't going to execute her yet. The reprieve gave her time to escape, and gave her friends time to find her. _How much longer till they miss me? Surely at bedtime tonight… Wendy will be cross when I'm late and she'll send Nibs and Slightly out to look for me._ For once, she truly regretted all the times she'd come home late and laughed at Wendy when she'd scolded her for worrying them. If she hadn't made a habit of disappearing, her friends would have come for her by now. Deciding to take advantage of Hook's grudging good will, she stepped forwards. "Well, then, you can look at my back. Its really sore and my head hurts too." She dropped her blanket off her shoulders, exposing her back and chest to the two pirates.

Billy gasped and quickly turned around. Hook rushed forward to grab the blanket, then quickly wrapped the girl back in it. "Odds, bobs, girl! Why aren't you dressed yet?"

"Because you ripped up my clothes!" Peter snapped angrily, pushing away from the man.

Hook looked around, "Where is the dress I left for you?"

Peter flushed and backed up until she was in the corner again. "I'm not going to wear it."

"Billy," Hook growled, "Bring in the water and washcloth for Pan, then leave."

Peter watched in concern as Billy returned with the bucket of water. "Are you going to attack me again?" she asked softly, not looking at Hook. "Will you throw me into the wall again, and sit on top of me, and cut me again? Just because I don't want to wear that silly dress?"

Hook paused and glanced at Billy, a bit disconcerted at the question. The alarmed look his gunner flashed him increased his shame. With the shame came anger, and he kicked the pile of hay in frustration, sending the stuff flying about and uncovering the dress. "I won't touch you, Pan," he growled, "and you'll put that on voluntarily. Until you do so, you will sit in here, naked. Give me your blanket."

Peter looked at Billy again, though she knew better than to think the boy would help. Billy _should_ have been her ally, he was only a little older than Slightly and could have been a Lost Boy, but for some reason he stayed with the pirates. Billy wouldn't return her gaze, turning to leave instead. Peter glared at Hook again, remembering how he'd held her down and stripped her. She quickly threw the blanket at him. "I hate you," she spat, trying to cover herself with her hands.

Hook averted his eyes when he caught the blanket. "I hate you too, girl. And I think I hate you more now that I know you're a girl, because you have seriously complicated my ability to avenge myself upon you." He turned and walked to the door, then paused in the opening. "When you become more obedient, I'll have your injuries looked at. They're not life-threatening, so they should keep just find. You really should get dressed. It can get quite cool down here in the night. Plus, if your friends come to rescue you, you don't want to have to escape naked, do you?"

Peter glared at Hook as the man shut the door. When she heard the lock turn, she sat down and stared at the food. "I'd rather go naked than have my friends see me in a dress. And I'd rather starve than eat _that_!" She did, however, nibble on the hard, stale lump of bread and she drank all of the water. She tried to wash the cuts on her body with the damp cloth, but the water was cold, which made _her_ colder. But she did manage to wrap some of them up in the bandages, which helped. Finally, Peter gathered up the hay again, laid the dress on top to keep the straws from poking her, then curled up on the pile and tried to go back to sleep, miserable.

Robert Mullins had been given the first night watch, and as he stood on the deck he glared at the door of the Captain's cabin, lowly rattling off every foul name he could think of. Hook disliked Mullins more than any of his other men, a feeling which was more than mutual. After all, Robert Mullins had been an honest merchantman until he was pressed into piracy by James Hook. Mullins just knew that he'd been assigned the watch purely out of spite. "I tell ya, Billy, one day I'm gonna kill 'em!"

"Robert," Billy said, hiding his smile, "we _all_ got up early to help with the trap. Everyone's tired."

"Yeah, but I had the second shift this morning! So it's been a near whole day I been up. It's inhuman to put me on watch."

 _Who said Hook was human?_ "You had a nap when we got back," Billy reminded the man.

"Five minutes don't count!"

"Five hours!" Billy snapped. "I timed ya myself, and I woke ya for lunch. Deal with it, Robert, yer fresher than th' rest of us. For once, the Cap'n ain't bein' hateful… he wouldn't risk Pan escaping by putting an exhausted man on watch tonight."

Mullins glared, but he didn't argue any further, conceding Jukes's point. "So if everyone's tired, why are _you_ still up?"

"I'm waiting," Billy answered quietly, avoiding the man's eyes.

"Billy, I told ya to break it off with that whelp. I don't want ya killed fer associatin' with him, and if was really yer friend, he'd leave ya be."

"Slightly said the same thing, once. But if I'm really _his_ friend, then I shouldn't let him leave. He really doesn't fit in with the Lost Boys sometimes, like I don't really fit in here. We understand each other, and its nice to have someone my age to talk to."

Mullins nodded, deciding he was too tired and grumpy to keep up the old argument. He didn't like Slightly, but he really didn't hate the kid either. He had vague recollections of the kid helping him when he was sick, a dream that Billy had told him was real. He understood that he owed that Lost Boy a debt, a debt he considered repaid by turning his head whenever he came to visit Billy. His biggest problem with Slightly was that his friendship with Billy could kill the young pirate if it was ever exposed. "Best go up then, so he don't come down here and look for ya."

Billy smiled and put his hand on the rigging, then paused. "Should I tell him we've got Pan?"

"Whatever for?" Mullins snapped.

"Well, I can find out if they knew Pan was a girl, and how long its been that way. Cap'n wants to talk to th' pixie, and he can't do that unless they know to come here."

"When they find out, they'll likely sneak aboard and spirit the brat away," Mullins groused.

"That wouldn't break my heart," Billy muttered lowly.

But Mullins heard that little comment, and he grabbed the gunner's arm and glared at the boy. "Have you _completely_ gone over to their side? I don't wanna be yer enemy, son, but if ya go turncoat, I won't have a choice!"

Billy returned Mullins's glare, angry that the man would suggest such a thing. "If you think so little of me as to believe I'd _ever_ betray you, Robert Mullins, then you don't care for me nearly as much as I thought you did!"

"Then why help Pan?"

"Because I have to know how long he's been a she!" Billy hissed. "If Slightly can tell me, then I'll know once and for all about myself."

Mullins tightened his grip, "What are you sayin', Billy? What's Pan got to do with you?"

"You're hurting me, let go!" Billy protested, trying to pull away.

"I'm gonna hurt ya more if ya don't answer me, Billy!" Mullins growled, giving the boy a shake.

Billy kept struggling, unwilling to explain himself anymore. But when Mullins raised his hand to strike him, he felt his blood go cold. He stilled and glared at the man, furious. "Hit me then! If it'll make ya feel better and leave me alone, then hit me!"

Mullins blinked, realizing what he'd been about to do. He let go of Billy in shock and lowered his hand. "You know I'd never hit ya, lad. I swore to ya I never would, and I keep my word."

"You keep your word when it suits you, Robert, just like the Cap'n," Billy said flatly. "You want to know _why_ I need to find out about Pan? Fine! I need to find out if I'm a normal boy, or if I'm what you so fondly call a 'filthy faggot'. From the first time I laid eyes on Peter Pan, I've felt an attraction to him. I thought he was beautiful and it scared me. I tried to ignore it, and I tried to lie to myself about it, but its only gotten stronger the longer we've been here. I hated him so much for making me feel like that, that I did everything I could to help Hook hunt him. I thought perhaps if he was dead, then the unnatural feelings and thoughts would go away. You're the one that always said that men who liked men were disgusting abominations, and that if you ever found yourself on a ship with one ya'd sink him to Davey Jones. I couldn't bear the thought that you'd turn against me, and I was so scared of what _you_ thought, that I've been fighting this for _years_! And today I found out that Peter Pan, the boy that's haunted me all this time, is really a _girl_. And I don't think I've ever been so happy in my _entire life_!"

Billy took a deep breath, shaking as his anger faded. Robert just stared at him in shock, and Billy felt dread grown in his heart. _He'll hate me now, for sure._ "I have to know if Peter's really a girl that's been pretending to be a boy, or if this is just fairy magic. If she turns into a boy again, I think it might just kill me, because if you don't kill me for being queer, I'll kill myself. I'd rather die than have you look at me like I'm filth."

Robert knew he should speak, that he should say something to let Billy know that it was okay, to tell the boy that he could never hate him. But he couldn't make his mouth work, and he couldn't seem to draw enough air. _Billy thought he was gay? He's been scared I'd hate him. This isn't a new crush on a girl he saw starkers, he's been lustin' after Pan this whole time! That's sick!_ Mullins winced at that thought and turned away from the boy, ashamed of himself. _By Pew's deadlights, that's exactly why he was scared to tell me. And what if it_ is _magic, and Pan becomes male again? Do I tell him its okay?_ Can _I tell him its okay?_

Billy felt his heart break when Mullins turned his back on him. _He hates me._ With a sigh and a heavy heart, Billy began to climb the rigging, intent on keeping to his appointment with Slightly – who was now most likely the only friend he had left in the world.


	4. Billy's Bet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Billy didn't have to wait long before Slightly joined him in the crow's nest. Usually, the blonde liked to sneak up on him and scare him, but since they were meeting up high and a start could cause Billy to fall, Slightly refrained from giving in to the urge. Instead, he came from a direction that the gunner was sure to see and alighted in the nest with a smile.

"Hey!" he said quietly. "Look, I slightly can't stay long. Peter didn't come home, so I need to know if he's here. If he's not, I have to go find him," he paused when he saw how Billy sat with his head down, rubbing his upper arm slowly. "Are you okay?"

Billy looked up then and Slightly felt his worry increase when he saw that his friend was crying. "I'll be alright. Robert and I had an argument, is all." He gave his arm another rub, wincing at the soreness from where Mullins had gripped him. "Slightly, sit and listen to me; we need to talk."

"But Peter…" Slightly felt torn between his two friends, an all too common feeling. He was worried about Peter, but Billy _never_ cried and let you see it. If his friend was this upset, then something was wrong. "Peter can take care of himself. I'm sure he's okay, probably having an adventure and slightly forgot to come home. What's wrong?" Slightly sat facing his friend, trying to smile reassuringly.

"We caught Peter Pan today…" Billy began, but he was cut off when Slightly jumped up.

"He's here?" Slightly hissed, relief and new worry mingling in his heart. "I gotta go tell Nibs so we can rescue him…" he paused when Billy grabbed his hand. He saw something unreadable in the dark boy's eyes; it looked like worry. "What's wrong?" Slightly asked tremulously as he let the boy pull him to sit back down. "Hook – Hook didn't hurt him, did he? Peter's not dead…"

"No," Billy said quickly, realizing he'd worried his friend. "Peter's fine, just a few scratches and some bruises. She's in a cabin below, and Hook isn't planning to kill her right now."

"Her? Her who? Wendy's at home," Slightly stammered, confused.

"Peter Pan," Billy answered.

"Billy, are you feeling okay? Peter's more than slightly a boy."

"No, she's not," Billy replied softly but firmly. He saw the blonde was about to argue again, so he held up his hand and kept his eyes locked on Slightly's green orbs. "We laid a trap at that waterfall you and yer friends bathe at. Early this morning, we sprung it on Pan. We _all_ saw her naked, Slightly. Trust me, Peter Pan is definitely a girl."

Slightly stared at Billy for a moment while his brain tried to process this information. "But… that's slightly impossible… you're playing a joke, right?" The boy's eyes narrowed in anger. "That's not funny, Billy! I get laughed at enough by the Lost Boys without you doing it too!"

"I'm not trying to trick you!" Billy hissed, trying to calm his friend. "I'd never make you look foolish, Slightly. I'd never hurt you like that just so I could get some laughs." He sighed, feeling dread well up in his heart. Slightly had been with Peter longer than _any_ other Lost Boy. And if Slightly hadn't known… her gender was either magically changed or it was the best kept secret in Neverland. "I saw her, Slightly. I saw her a few times, up close! Do you know what makes girls and boys different?"

"Of course!" Slightly said quickly, blushing a bit in the moonlight. "We have parts that girls don't have… our private parts are different."

"Have you ever _seen_ a girl's private part?"

Slightly flushed even more. "No… but… Hard-to-Hit saw his sister lots of times when they were younger. He told me and Curly what she looked like. Tink got awfully upset and told Chief Panther. Hard-to-Hit got in trouble."

"Have you ever seen Peter naked?" Billy pressed.

"No," Slightly answered quietly, thinking.

"No?" Billy was surprised. He was already quite depressed, because if Slightly knew the difference, then surely he'd have noticed that Peter was different, unless of course Peter had been a boy before. "Isn't that odd? A group of boys living together, and you've never even seen by accident?"

"Shorts always stay on," Slightly answered softly, "Tink made it a rule before even _I_ got here, and Peter's always made us stick to it." He fully believed that Billy was telling the truth and that somehow Peter was now a girl. "What has Peter gotten himself into? Maybe he slightly pissed off a pixie and she cast a spell."

"Or she's been a girl this whole time and Tinker Bell's been hiding it."

Slightly frowned and shook his head. "Tink's sneaky enough, but not Peter… not for this long. Peter would slightly never lie to us, especially about something like that."

"Pan thinks she's a he. She doesn't even know how boys and girls are different… no one's ever taught her."

"Let me see him," Slightly asked. "I can help him escape and we can change him – her – back."

"I can't, cully," Billy answered, "me and Hook are the only ones with keys, and if Pan gets out, he'll know it was me. He isn't going to hurt her, he's too curious," Billy tried to reassure Slightly. "He wants to talk to Tinker Bell. Have her come in the morning."

Slightly thought for a little while, trying to figure out how to tell the Lost Boys where Peter was without anyone figuring out that Billy had tipped him off. "Mr. Mullins will be slightly angry if the Lost Boys show up an hour after we talked, won't he?"

Billy nodded. "I crossed the line by telling you, cully. Hook could hang me as a spy."

Slightly sighed. "I'll tell them I overheard a conversation… ask Tink about Peter being a girl. Nibs and Wendy are out looking too, so it'll be awhile before we can mount a rescue party… I know!" Slightly's eyes lit up. "I'll tell 'em the pirates are slightly expecting us tonight, 'cause they saw me. We'll wait until morning to come. Everyone's sleepy anyway and Wendy will think it'll be safer when its daylight. You sure Hook won't hurt Peter tonight?"

"He's had plenty of time to kill Peter already," Billy pointed out.

Slightly nodded and clasped hands with the gunner. "I've gotta go. Please, if something happens before we come back, please protect Peter. If he gets hurt because I left him here on your word, I'll never forgive myself."

"I'll protect Pan, I promise," Billy said, nodding. The blonde smiled at him and lifted into the air. With a silent wave, Slightly flew back to the underground home.

When Billy was back on the deck, he went straight below to find his bunk. He hadn't gotten the answers he needed. In fact, he felt worse. Mullins knew the truth now and the man had taken it badly. The Lost Boys thought Peter was male, and Billy couldn't see how they all could have been kept in the dark about something like that. _So Pan's really a boy, and that mean's I'm gay. What do I do?_ Now he also had the burden of his promise to protect Peter. He had no idea of how to do that without being seen as a traitor. _What do I_ do _? Damn you, Pan! You've ruined my_ life _!_

Peter slept fitfully, too cold to be able to relax, not to mention the small comfort the pile of hay afforded her. She wasn't freezing, but it was chill enough to keep her shivering and awake. _I wish I had a fireplace,_ she thought when she finally gave up on sleeping. _A nice, warm fire to curl up next to…_ Peter's eyes widened and she glanced up at the sconce on the wall. The candle was low, having burned all night, but it still burned.

"Fire," Peter whispered. Her delight increased when she floated to the candle and was able to reach it, despite the chain. "Now what can I build a fire with?" She looked at the wooden walls appraisingly. If she could find some loose boards, maybe… then she remembered the dress. "Perfect!"

Plagued with nightmares and waking terrors, Billy slept very little that night. He had recurring dreams that Mullins led the denizens of Neverland in a lynch mob, chasing him around the island as they called him horrible names. Invariably he was caught and his death sentence was pronounced by a very beautiful woman who looked like Peter Pan might, if she aged about ten years and dressed feminine. They'd hang him, and the woman, laughing, would lift her skirts to show her manhood as he strangled to death. After the fourth time he dreamed this, Billy had had enough. He got out of his hammock, and judging by the fact that the night watch were all asleep in their hammocks and Smee was gone, deduced that it was close enough to muster time anyway to justify staying awake.

Smee was an insomniac, a habit he'd likely gotten from Hook (or maybe the fact the old man didn't require much sleep was what made him so compatible to the Captain). The old bugger was always the first up and usually stoked the kitchen fire to make coffee before Cookson rose to fix breakfast. Coffee sounded good to Jukes, so he fumbled his way to the kitchen. He found the bosun already at the table, nursing a cup of the black liquid, and he was soon sitting across the table from Smee with a steaming cup of his own. Once he'd cleared the cobwebs enough to think, he looked up to see the old man smiling at him.

"Bad dreams, lad?" Smee asked.

Billy nodded, "Ain't been this bad since I joined the _Roger_."

Smee patted the boy's hand affectionately. "Ya gets tired later, lad, come see me. I'll give ya a 'duty' that'll let ya slip off fer a nap an' no one th' wiser."

"Thanks," Billy smiled. He doubted he'd take the man up on his offer, but it was a nice gesture. "I'm gonna go see if Pan's up. I'm bettin' she didn't sleep so well, either. Could be she's ready for breakfast."

"Take 'er some o' th' coffee, lad, an' a blanket," Smee suggested. "She can cover herself in it while yer there, let 'er warm up fer a bit. Mayhap ya can talk some sense inta her an' get 'er ta put th' frock on."

"I'll try," Billy said, though his tone indicated he doubted he could talk Pan into doing _anything_. But he prepared a tray with two cups of coffee, one heavy with milk, and some biscuit, cheese, fruit, and large glass of water. On his way to the cabin, he snagged an extra blanket and was soon unlocking Pan's door.

He nearly dropped the tray when he opened the door and saw what Peter was about to do. "STOP!" he yelled, putting the tray down and running across the room. Peter sat by a small pile of wood bits, and Billy could see the dress was on the bottom of the pile. She was about to touch the candle flame to the cloth and set the thing ablaze.

Peter looked up in surprise when she heard Billy shout. She thought it was odd that she hadn't noticed him at the door, but that and all other thought fled her mind when she saw him racing towards her. Anticipating an attack, she blindly grabbed a piece of wood and made ready to fight. Instead of hitting her, Billy kicked the pile of wood, scattering the pieces about the room.

"Hey!" Peter protested, but the fury in the gunner's eyes intrigued her. She couldn't recall _ever_ seeing Jukes this upset.

"Are you OUT of your MIND?" Billy shouted. _Calm down, I don't want to wake anyone else up._ "What possessed you to try to start a fire?" he continued in a quieter voice.

"I was cold," Peter growled petulantly. "I just wanted to be able to go to sleep and not be cold."

Jukes rolled his eyes and threw the blanket to the girl. "A seaman's greatest fear is fire. Ever been on a burning ship, cully? If the fire can't be put out, and when it gets goin' good it _can't_ , ya got two choices: burn or drown."

"I've made fires before," Peter snapped as she wrapped up in the blanket. "I know how to do it right." She perked up a bit when Billy retrieved the tray and set it before her. Snatching up an apple, Peter tore into it greedily.

Billy noted the congealed mass still in the bowl from last night, the only meal Peter had been given the day before. "Finish this and I'll bring ya more. Ever have coffee before?" When Peter shook her head, her mouth too full to answer aloud, Billy smiled. "It's bitter, but I added some milk for ya to help a bit. It's hot too, so it'll warm ya and wake ya up." He took his own cup and nursed it while he watched Peter eat. "Don't try to build a fire again. If you fell asleep and it spread, by the time you woke up you'd be on fire." He pointed to her foot under the blanket. "Even if ya got the chain off, yer locked in here. You'd be cooked afore we even knew there _was_ a fire."

Peter's eyes widened at Billy's warning, but she didn't stop eating her breakfast. When at last the food was gone and her stomach was complaining happily, she sat back with her own cup of coffee. "Alright, no fire. Can I keep the blanket?"

"Sorry, no. I think I'm gonna be in trouble if Cap'n sees me socializing with ya now, and if I leave the blanket it'll be worse."

"I hate him," Peter spat, picking up her makeshift club again. "I'm going to kill him."

"Where'd you get that, anyway?" Billy asked, looking around the room in confusion. Pan giggled and pointed up, so Billy looked at the ceiling and beheld the hole where pieces of planks had been broken away.

"Mason's gonna shit when he sees that."

"Codfish won't be happy to see how much of his ship's rotted," Peter whispered playfully. She was immensely pleased with herself for discovering the weakened ceiling. "Mason should learn to look up."

Billy gazed at the dazzling smile on Peter's face. _If she was more my age… and really a girl…_ "You really are pretty," he murmured.

Peter's delight turned to annoyance, and she raised the wood like a club. "I'm warning you, Mr. Jukes. I'm tired of this stupidity. I'm NOT a GIRL."

"How do you know?" Billy asked, ignoring the makeshift weapon.

Peter paused, taken aback. "Wh- how…" she sputtered. "I just _know_! I've always been a boy. My name's Peter, not Petunia!"

Billy snorted and tried not to laugh. "Petunia… no, that doesn't fit ya at all." He got an idea, though, and looked at Peter again, dead serious. "How about a bet? I'll bet you I can prove you're a girl. If I lose, you keep the blanket. If I win, you'll put on the dress and accept the fact that you're a girl."

Peter cocked her head to the side and thought. _I_ know _I'm a little boy, and I'll get to keep the blanket._ "It's a deal, Mr. Jukes. Prove it."

Billy went back to the door and closed it, praying that no one would walk in on them. "Okay. I'm only doing this because I kind of like you and I know yer miserable. Please promise you won't tell _anyone_ I did this."

Peter nodded, her interest increasing at Billy's obvious discomfort. "Is this some kind of secret? I promise I won't tell."

Billy sighed and returned the nod. This had seemed like a great idea a few moments ago. Now he was getting cold feet. "Okay. I'm gonna show you what boys have that's different from girls. It's what you _don't_ have that clued us all in to you bein' a girl." At Peter's impatient but curious nod, Billy untied the string of his pants and let them drop to the floor.

Peter stared in dumbfounded amazement when she saw Billy standing naked before her. _That…_ _I don't have… Hook said boys and girls were different under their clothes._ "All boys… look like that?" Peter squeaked, panic beginning to fill her. _It's not right, it can't be true…_

Billy nodded, trying to quell his discomfort. Peter was staring at him intently and the boy was suddenly _very_ self-conscious. But he repressed the urge to cover himself and turn away. She needed a good look so she could finally understand what they'd been trying to tell her. "All boys look like this… more or less. It's a requirement."

"Oh," Peter said softly, her hand straying to her own groin. She had nothing that even remotely resembled _that_.

Billy pulled up his pants, deciding that was enough exposure for now. He couldn't take the embarrassment, and he just _knew_ Hook would come down here as soon as he woke up. "Don't say anything, okay? I'll get in big trouble."

Peter nodded. "I won't tell," she whispered and closed her eyes. _How can this be? What will everyone say? But I'm still me, right?_ The fear increased, fear of how her friends would react when they found out. A hand closed on her shoulder and she jumped, giving a sharp cry. Billy was there, staring at her in concern, and she felt her panic begin to fade. She'd deal with this later, when she was free. Right now she was in the company of pirates and fear would get her killed.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She'd seemed terrified, and the thought of Peter Pan being afraid of anything alarmed the gunner.

"Oh, yeah," Peter whispered shakily. "I'm fine. So I'm a girl, big deal." She drew a breath, forcing away the urge to cry. "You won, you proved it. Give me the dress."

Billy retrieved the yellow dress and handed it to the obviously shaken girl. "I'm sorry," he said as he stood with his back to her. "I know it must be upsetting to find out you're wrong about something like that. But I didn't want to see you and the Cap'n fight anymore about it, when it's so easy to prove. Cap'n would die afore he exposed himself to a girl."

Peter stared at the dress, trying to figure out how she was supposed to put it on. She found the buttons in the back and unfastened them, then pulled it over her head like a shirt. "I guess we're even, now," she said as she adjusted the waist and slipped her arms into the shoulder straps. "You saw me naked, now I've seen you." She fumbled at the buttons, but couldn't reach right to fasten them herself. "Um, Mr. Jukes? Would you help me?"

Billy turned and his breath caught at the sight of her. The dress wasn't so bad when it was worn and it actually looked pretty. The hem fell to below her knees, kept a bit billowed by the petticoats that were a part of the skirt. She looked lovely in it, and Billy couldn't help but grin awkwardly. Then Peter put her fists on her hips, her body shifted into an angry stance, and she sneered at the pirate. Suddenly, she seemed very much like a thin, gangly little boy that had been unwillingly put into a dress.

"Sorry," he muttered and stepped behind her to button up the dress. He noted the bruises across her back and winced. _No wonder she couldn't reach to do this herself._ He tied the yellow bow in the back and stepped away. "I guess you'll do," he said dryly as he took another look at her.

"Good," Peter snapped, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders again. "My feet are still cold," she looked pointedly at her boots sitting by the door, out of her reach.

Billy retrieved them for her and picked up the tray. "Well, you should be warmer now. Try to get some more sleep. I'll see you at lunch." With another glance at the girl, Billy left.

She held herself together for a full five seconds after she heard the lock turn. But when she felt that Billy was safely out of hearing, the strength left her legs and she sat on the hay with a sob. It wasn't right to her that she could be a girl. Wendy was a girl. Tiger Lily was a girl. _I'm nothing like them… I'm like Nibs and Slightly…_ Her world had very few rules, most of which she generally ignored, but there was a difference between rules and truth. And Billy's bet had just proved that some of the truths her world was based on were lies. _How could this happen? How could I not know? Surely_ someone _knew? What will Wendy think? What will my Lost Boys think? Will they be angry? How could I not know? Why didn't anyone_ tell me? The questions kept coming, flooding her with uncertainty and fear. What else in her life was a lie?

 _Calm down. I'm still me. I'm still Peter Pan…_ she faltered then. 'Peter' was a boy's name. _Is my name really 'Peter'? Why would a mother name her daughter 'Peter'? Who am I? What's my real name? I'm so lost. Why didn't anyone TELL ME?_ The tears came then, bursting from her in agonizing sobs. Confusion, frustration, fear, anger, shame… they broke down her defenses and her fragile calm, flooding her senses until she lay weeping on the hay, aware only of her misery and despair.

When Hook opened the door to the cabin, he was more than a little stunned by what he saw. He was delighted to see Peter was wearing the dress, counting that concession as a victory on his part. He was filled with glee to see Peter crying, enjoying anything that gave the brat pain and grief. But seeing the little girl weeping also touched a soft spot in his breast, and he felt a budding concern for her. Unable to decide if he should laugh at her or comfort her, he stood silent, closing the door behind him softly while he waited to see if the pirate or the gentleman within him won out.

When Peter's sobs worsened into hysterics and she began to retch from their force, Hook's better half won the battle. Running to the girl, he snagged the bucket and managed to lean her over it just as her breakfast began coming up.

Peter couldn't remember ever feeling so miserable. She was rarely ever sick, and was sure she could count on one hand the number of times she'd ever vomited. She decided she hadn't been missing anything spectacular and vowed that the next time one of the Lost Boys got ill, she wouldn't tease them or laugh. _Please make it stop and I'll even wipe their foreheads and feed them soup like Wendy does,_ she prayed as she continued to dry heave for a while after her stomach was empty. Something damp and cold brushed across her face, dabbing gently at her mouth. She opened her eyes and saw the bucked below her face, and the sight coupled with the smell made her gag again. Turning her head, she saw the black pants and coat of the man kneeling beside her and became aware of the arm around her waist, helping to hold her up.

"Words can not express how much I want to kill you right now, Captain," Peter moaned, her voice scratchy in her burning throat.

Hook let go of Peter and handed her the glass of water. "Don't blame me for your hysterics, girl," he growled. "I did nothing to cause this."

Peter took a mouthful of water to rinse the acrid taste out, then spit into the bucket. She sat back carefully and gingerly swallowed some of the cool liquid, savoring how it cooled her burning throat. "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be a boy and I wouldn't have to wear this stupid dress!"

"If it wasn't for me, you'd still _think_ you were a boy, but you would still be a _girl_. And as for the dress," Hook grinned and began unfastening the chain from the wall, "I think it looks simply adorable on you." He laughed at Peter's hate-filled glare. "Are you feeling sick still? Do you want more breakfast?"

"I'm fine," Peter spat. Her stomach still gurgled uncertainly, and she didn't want to upset it with food right now.

"Good," Hook purred, pulling the girl to her feet. "If you'll accompany me outside, I'd like to show everyone what a lovely lady you are."

Peter planted her feet firmly and glared at Hook, knocking his hand away. "NO! I won't be laughed at."

Hook smirked and viciously yanked on the chain he was holding, the other end of which was still fastened to Peter's ankle. The girl yelped as her leg was pulled out from under her and she landed hard on her rear. "You'll either walk with me to the deck, or I'll drag you. Which way do you think my men will find more amusing?"

Peter remained silent but climbed to her feet. Deliberately she made a show of dusting off her skirt and straightening her bow. "Let's go then, Captain," she said coldly. Hook gave a slight bow and offered her his arm, as is proper for a gentleman to do for a lady. Peter flushed and was about to suggest Hook could go someplace warm, but the man gave a warning tug on the chain. Peter bit back the comment and put her arm around his, distinctly uncomfortable with the fact she was touching Hook.

"Very good, Miss Pan," Hook chuckled as he led his prisoner from the room. "I think our next lesson will be to teach you to curtsey properly."

"I'm going to enjoy killing you, Captain," Peter said, smiling. There was an odd gleam in the girl's eyes which the man found extremely unsettling. He refrained from teasing her further just then, deciding to give her time to cool off. Hook knew well the dangers of a woman's fury, and though she was yet a child, this girl was deadly. He had his severed hand to attest to that.


	5. Tink's Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Okay, boys!" Nibs announced, getting the attention of the children sitting at the table. "Here's what we'll do." The temporary leader of the Lost Boys pointed at the map Twins had drawn and laid out the details of his rescue plan.

Slightly stifled a yawn and looked around for Tinker Bell, uninterested in the plan. It wouldn't work, but that didn't matter. The other boys kept interrupting with their own ideas and schemes, telling each other how stupid everyone else's ideas were. _We'll either get caught or it'll turn into a straight fight. If we cut the silliness out and just attack, we'd save a lot of time._ He finally saw Tink across the room, sitting on Wendy's shoulder. _Yep, stupid plan._ _The only time the girls get along is when they're talking about how silly us boys are being._

Slightly crossed the room and got Tink's attention. "Can I talk to you outside? It's about Peter."

"What's wrong, Slightly?" Wendy asked, worried. Slightly had reassured them last night that he'd heard the pirates say Peter was safe for now. But their friend had been a prisoner for an entire day, and she was worried that Hook had done something terrible during the night.

"It's a secret," Slightly said, not looking at the girl. "I can only tell Tink. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Slightly," Tink chimed, flying towards the exit. "We'll be back in a minute, Wendy. Don't let them do anything extremely silly." The brunette nodded and gave Slightly an understanding smile, then turned her attention back to the other boys. Together, Slightly and Tink flew outside and settled down not far from Hangman's tree. Tink alighted on a branch near Slightly, so she could see him clearly in the dim light. It was still a bit before dawn, an unusual time for the boys to be up. But Peter needed them, so no one minded the early hour.

"Tink?" Slightly looked at the pink pixie, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "Is Peter a girl?"

Tink startled, her small features compressing into a tighter frown than the blonde's. "Why do you ask?"

Slightly looked around before answering. "I heard the pirates say it. They saw Peter taking a bath, that's slightly when they caught him. Billy Jukes said that Peter was a girl."

"Does anyone else know?" Tink asked sharply.

"Is it true, Tink? Is Peter really a girl?"

Tink flitted fretfully, annoyed. "Did you tell anyone? Slightly, do any of the others know about this?"

"No!" Slightly snapped, "I thought if this was supposed to be a secret, I slightly shouldn't tell everyone!"

Tink smiled warmly and gave the flushed boy a kiss on his cheek. "That's my Slightly. You always come to me first."

"What do you mean?" Slightly asked, confused.

Tink reached into her pouch and pulled out a handful of dust. "This isn't the first time you or another Lost Boy has found out. But you always come to me first. Thank you." She blew the dust in the boy's face.

"I've never…" suddenly Slightly's sight wavered and he began to feel dizzy. "Tink? What did you do?" he whispered shakily.

"Just relax and listen, Slightly. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," the boy whispered, blinking slowly. It was hard to think, everything was dancing. The glowing fairy was the only thing that didn't waver, so he concentrated on her, trying to regain his balance.

Tink smiled at him. "The pirates never said Peter was a girl. Peter is a boy. He's always been a boy and it's silly to think he's a girl. Forget you ever heard he was a girl. No one ever said that."

"No one," Slightly repeated numbly.

"Good boy," Tink sighed. "Follow me, Slightly. Let's go back down." She led the way back to the door in the tree, going slowly so the dazed and disoriented boy could keep up. He fell into the chute and tumbled all the way to the bottom, falling into a heap on the floor of the underground house.

When Tink flew down the passage after him, a small gnome poked his head out of a bush, staring at the tree intently. "What have you done, Tinker Bell?" he whispered in shock. "You deceitful little sprite, what have you done?" He'd heard that Lost Boy tell the fairy that Pan was a female, and she'd not denied it. Instead, she'd covered it up! And that spell could have easily fried the boy's mind. "The King must be told of this!" As fast as thought, the gnome disappeared, using a spell to wish himself to King Oberon's palace.

"Slightly!" Wendy screamed when she saw the blonde fall. She and Nibs dashed to the boy, alarmed at the way he just lay there, staring at them dully.

"I don't feel so good, Wendy," Slightly moaned.

"He said he felt sick," Tink lied, hovering by Wendy's ear, "but he still wanted to help Peter. I cast a spell on him to make him feel better, but it will take a little while to work."

Nibs gathered his friend up in his arms and carried him to the bed. "Slightly," he said softly as he lay the boy down, "you should have told us. Do you need anything?"

"Tired," Slightly moaned, closing his eyes.

Tink landed on his chest, her brow knitted in worry. These symptoms weren't unexpected; it was a normal reaction to be dazed after having your memories changed. The human mind had to adjust and reorient itself. "Let him take a nap. He'll wake up in an hour and he'll be perfect. You should have a plan to save Peter by then, and he'll be all set to help."

Nibs and Wendy still looked worried, but they trusted Tink. Wendy covered Slightly with a blanket, reassured to see that he was already asleep, and went with Nibs back to the planning session. The other boys, who also had been watching Slightly with worry, began their discussions again, but kept their voices low to let their friend sleep.

"I'm so sorry, Slightly," Tink sighed. "I don't like doing this… kettles and skillets, I've got to do this to Peter and all the pirates, too! But I have to. It'll be my life and Peter's if anyone finds out. And it could be the end of Neverland."

Peter was not amused. Unfortunately, the pirates were _very_ amused, which only heightened the girl's extreme displeasure with the whole situation. She really hated the dress, and hated the air of femininity it forced upon her. It hung from her body strangely, and when she turned the skirts swished, making her feel like something was entangling her legs. She kept having flash-backs of being tangled in the net underwater, and often found herself kicking her feet in an attempt to rid herself of the encumbrance. It would definitely make flying a bit more interesting (and drafty) since she had no stockings or undergarments to wear like Wendy wore. It was a sure bet the skirts or the sash would snag on things, and the added weight would impede her in an upcoming fight.

The only positive thing she could find about the thing (Wendy always told her to find something positive in any situation, so she'd tried really hard), was that it made relieving herself (or using the head, as Hook had called it for some unfathomable reason) a whole lot easier. But any joy she may have gotten from that discovery had been nullified by the experience of having to relieve herself with Hook standing a few feet away, holding the chain.

It was intolerable, really. The man had done nothing but humiliate her since he captured her yesterday: he'd caught her showering, tried to drown her, ripped her clothes off, ignored her for the rest of the day, given her this yellow horror to wear, saw her cry on more than one occasion, had the gall to pretend to be nice while she threw up, made her pee in front of him (actually, he'd had his back turned, but he could still hear her and Peter could _see_ him), paraded her on deck so everyone could see her wearing the dress, and now _this_. Peter was going to kill them all, starting with this pirate that was approaching her.

"I don't think so, Mr. Starkey," she snarled angrily, bringing up her fists and taking a defensive stance. She had to squint a bit, the morning sun shining brightly behind the pirate, but she thought the squint would make her look fiercer anyway, and she was used to fighting blind if she had to.

Starkey paused a few steps away from Pan, his enthusiasm for this deflating a bit at the girl's glare. He glanced at his captain, but the man stared back at him stoically, the only indication that he was enjoying the situation was the rare glitter in his eyes.

"Look, Starkey's scared of a little girl!" Mason teased, and the other pirates fell out laughing.

Starkey flushed and tightened his grip on the hairbrush, a ribbon in his other hand. "Come now, Miss Pan. Captain's orders are for me to fix your hair. So calm down and let me do my duty."

"Over my dead body," Peter swore.

"I dare say that would be easier," Starkey muttered as he continued to approach the furious girl. He stared into her bright blue eyes, which sparkled with anger and a hint of tears. "Too bad the ribbon isn't blue," he murmured as he reached for her hair, "it would bring out your lovely eyes." He heard Peter scream, and then everything became a blur of motion, pain, and shouts.

It took both Mason and Mullins to pry Peter off the half unconscious Starkey. In less than a heartbeat, the girl had winded Starkey with two fists to his diaphragm, caught the brush and ribbon that had fallen from his suddenly limp grasp, flown around him so that her leg chain had wrapped around his legs, toppled him face down on the deck, then sat on his back and proceeded to garrote the man with the ribbon… all while screaming something in a fairy tongue.

The other pirates had stared in shock, their laughter turned to dust in their gaping mouths, stunned by the lightning quick attack. They probably would have continued to stare dumbstruck until Peter had finished strangling Starkey, had Captain Hook not begun railing at them to _do_ something. Mullins had grabbed the girl from the back, trying to pull her off the man, while Mason pried the ribbon from her grasp. It wasn't until Jukes unfastened the leg iron that they could physically separate the girl from the man.

Once deprived of her prey, Peter blindly turned to her attackers. She flailed about with the hairbrush, wielding it like a small, prickly club. When it broke against Mason's jaw, she laughed in delight.

"You little _bitch_!" Mason roared, enraged. His palm connected with Peter's face with a resounding crack and the girl fell limp in Mullins's arms.

"Gall and brimstone!" Hook snarled furiously as he yanked Mason away from Peter and slammed the carpenter into the mast. "How _dare_ you strike a girl, you witless mongrel!" He pulled the man upright and glowered at him, their noses not even an inch apart. "I will deal with you later, dog. And you will seriously regret that your mother ever bore you."

"She tried ta kill Starkey, Cap'n," Mason protested weakly, his heart quailing at the look of utter rage and contempt in Hook's glare.

"If that lummox was stupid enough to underestimate Pan on the grounds that she's female, then he's too stupid to tolerate aboard my ship." Hook dropped Mason and spun on his heel to glare at Starkey. The man was now on his hands and knees, coughing and trying to catch his breath as Billy Jukes helped him. Hook strode to the man and lifted him the rest of the way up, Starkey's feet now dangling above the deck as he found himself eye to eye with the captain. "Have you learned anything today, Gentleman Starkey?"

"Aye, Cap'n," the man rasped, rubbing his throat gingerly. "I should have had her restrained better when I saw she'd fight, before she got a chance to attack. I let my guard down and she took me."

"It's nice to see at least one of you dogs can learn yer tricks," Hook sneered, setting the rattled man back on his feet. "While we shall grant her the concessions that proper form demand we show a member of the fair sex, we will _not_ forget that she doesn't know her place… yet, and we must therefore be on guard. She is Peter Pan, and she is still my enemy." Hook sighed when he turned to Peter and squatted beside Mullins. The girl's eyes were open but a bit dazed. Her left cheek was an angry red and a thin trickled of blood flowed from her nose. Hook noted with relief that it wasn't broken. "Smee! A cold rag, now!"

Peter blinked when the cold cloth made contact with her stinging face, but she didn't move. Slowly the world began to make sense again. Arms encircled her, tight but gentle, pinning her arms to her sides. Something was wrapped around her legs too, and she realized that the one holding her was sitting with his legs locked around hers, keeping her from kicking. Her skirt was riding high over her thighs and she had an irrational urge to pull it back down. A sudden movement close to her face startled her, making her turn away from the cloth.

"Let me clean your face, Pan," Hook said softly, raising the cloth towards the girl's bloodied nose again. Peter held still this time and let him dab at it. Bemused, the girl marveled at how the fearsome Captain could be so cruel and heartless in one instant, then so kind and warm in the next. _Which is the real Hook? Which is the mask?_

"Shall I let 'er go, Cap'n?" Mullins asked softly.

"No," Hook chuckled, noticing how Peter had tensed up when Mullins suggested that. "You've got the tiger by the tail, Robert. If you relax in the slightest, I dare say we'll be pulling her off _you_ next. Let me tend her, then I'll have Billy chain her so you can safely release your hold."

The Captain put the cloth to Peter's cheek again, hoping the red mark wouldn't become a bruise. Peter's head turned slightly to face him and Hook's saw the girl's eyes focus on him. He smiled at her mockingly, about to make a biting comment to tease her, when tears began silently falling from her eyes. "My apologies," he said instead, "Mason shouldn't have struck you."

"Why are you doing this?" Peter asked softly. "Kill me or let me go. Stop teasing me." She was too off balance to stop her tears. The world had taken a drastic turn in the past day and she still couldn't get her bearings.

Hook shook his head at that. "Come now, Peter, I thought you liked games. We're playing dress up. You always insist on forcing my men and me to play along with _your_ little games. You insist on making _us_ look foolish. For once, you can play _my_ game. And I'm not trying to tease you, child. I'm trying to see you as the girl you really are. Maybe when I'm done, you'll see it too."

He sent Billy for more chains, and soon Peter was sitting on a stool, the ankle chain back on her leg. This time her hands were bound behind her back when Starkey warily approached her with the hairbrush.

Starkey sighed, fighting the urge to hit the girl and exact retribution for what she'd done to him. But he knew the Captain would flay him if he struck her for no reason – not to mention how improper it would be. Mason's handprint still glowed on her face, a vivid reminder to him to not let his anger override his good sense.

Her defiance was still there, though Pan remained silent this time. Starkey had an image of her biting him and struggling, despite her chains, and he found that he had no stomach left to fight her again. "Please, Pan, may I do this without a fight? I'll be done as quickly as I can."

The girl's angry scowl turned to surprise, and she regarded Starkey for a moment, coolly appraising him. The red welt on his neck stood out, but what she noticed most were his eyes. The respect was there again, the uncertainty and trace of fear all the pirates had always held for her was back in his bearing. A quick glance showed the rest of the men held the same attitude. No one was laughing at her anymore. _They see Peter Pan again, not the Miss Pan they'd enjoyed laughing at. They remember what I really am and why they fear me._ "Fine," Peter snapped in irritation, "but hurry up."

Starkey smiled in relief and nodded. "Of course, milady." He walked to stand behind her and began brushing out the tangles, deciding he'd keep this simple: brush it and tie the ribbon as a headband, letting the hair hang long and loose behind her.

Peter relaxed and let Starkey brush her hair, almost immediately beginning to enjoy the session. It wasn't nearly as nice as when Wendy did this for her, but it still soothed her, despite her discomfort. _Maybe being a girl won't be so bad,_ she mused. _Wendy hasn't ever complained, except when we'd say she couldn't do something because she was a girl… and she always proved us wrong. It'll keep the pirates on their toes. Could be interesting to see how I can turn this against Hook._ Smiling softly and closing her eyes, Peter decided to give it a shot.

Starkey finished tying the ribbon in Peter's hair and gave his handiwork a critical stare. "Well, Captain, I dare say it's not bad, considering I haven't touched a woman's hair in quite awhile."

"It will do," Hook answered, smiling at the result. Pan definitely looked more like a young girl with her hair loose. There was a natural curl to Peter's hair, and Starkey had managed to get a few ringlets to frame her face. "Smee, let Miss Pan see how lovely she looks."

Peter glared at Hook, but some of her anger disappeared when she saw the man wasn't making fun of her. If anything he looked sincere, so when the bosun approached with the mirror, Peter refrained from kicking it out of his hands. Instead, she looked at her reflection, and felt a jolt go through her at how different she looked. At first, she didn't recognize the strangely familiar girl she saw staring back at her. Despite knowing now that she was a girl, she still had expected to see a boy in the mirror. _I wonder if I'm pretty. What will the Lost Boys think when they see me?_

As if on cue, Nibs's voice cut through the morning air. "LOST BOYS! ATTACK!" Peter and the pirates looked up in surprise, scanning the air for the incoming boys. Nibs, Curly, Twins, Tootles, and John were barreling towards the pirate ship, swords drawn as they shouted their war cries of "Death to pirates!" and "Free Peter!"

 _Where's Wendy and Slightly?_ Peter mused as she watched the pirates scramble to repel the attackers. As usual, Hook started shouting orders at his men, Billy Jukes and Starkey began bringing Long Tom around, and the other men drew their weapons and stood their ground.

"Peter," Wendy whispered from close behind her, and Peter turned her head to see the girl come creeping out from behind some crates. Wendy stopped when she got a good look at her friend. "Peter?" she asked, confused. The strange girl _looked_ like Peter Pan…

"Wendy!" Peter hissed, smiling. "Where's Tink? Get me out of these things!" she whispered back, giving the manacles a shake for emphasis.

"Peter?" Slightly called as he stepped beside Wendy, his dagger drawn. "Why are you slightly dressed like a girl?"

"Who cares?" Peter snapped, "Let me loose before Hook sees you!"

Slightly frowned, his headache coming back. _I thought Tink's magic was supposed to make me feel better._ Somehow, seeing Peter in the dress made him feel dizzy, but he shook it off. Now was not the time. He dashed to his leader and began prying at the manacles with his dagger, trying to spring the catch with the blade so the cuffs would open. "Tink, get the one on his foot," Slightly ordered. By the chiming he heard beneath him, he knew the pixie had gone to do just that. There was one positive thing about being captured by pirates a lot: it made you good at springing locks. And Billy was pretty good about giving his friend tips on opening his locks - a secret Slightly kept, not only to protect his alliance with the pirate, but also because it was nice being better at something than the other boys were. Only Tink could pick a lock faster, and that's because she could reach into the keyholes better. In seconds the manacles fell to the deck with a loud clang, and Peter was leaping into the air with a loud crow.

Hook spun in surprise at the sound and began swearing when he saw his prisoner lifting away from the deck, Slightly and Wendy a heartbeat behind her. "Get back down here, Pan! I'm not done with you yet!"

Peter laughed and gave a mock bow. "Some other time, Captain Codfish! I thank you for your hospitality, but I really must go home and find some decent clothes. Something a little more suitable for crossing blades in."

Nibs and the other boys had broken away from the battle when they heard Peter crow. They hadn't really spared a thought for where their leader had been on deck, being too preoccupied with fighting the men and avoiding any cannon shot Jukes might send their way. So when they scanned the area for Peter Pan, and instead saw Wendy and Slightly flying beside a girl in a yellow dress, they looked at one another in confusion and waited for the three to join them.

"Wendy? Where's Peter?" Nibs called, reluctant to fly away until he was sure Peter was safe.

"Right here," the strange girl called, flying to hover beside the crow's nest where Nibs and the other boys waited. Peter saw the way her boys stared at her, the confusion plainly stamped on their faces. "It's me, Peter."

"Why are you dressed like a girl?" Curly asked, smiling. "Is it a new game?"

"Or was Hook just being mean?" Nibs added.

Peter opened her mouth to answer, but something small yet strong covered her mouth. "Don't say anything, Peter," Tink admonished, holding her hands against the girl's lips. This had gotten out of hand, and the little pixie wasn't looking forward to the damage control she'd have to do. She'd expected that she'd have to alter the pirates' and Peter's memories… but with her "boy" in a dress, it was going to be a lot harder to keep anyone else from finding out. As long as Peter didn't affirm that she was a girl, Tink could just claim that Hook had been out to embarrass Peter by putting her in girl's clothes. The pixie didn't want to use that particular spell on the Lost Boys any more than she had to.

"Oh, I think Peter should say _something_ ," a loud, drawling voice called. "As a matter of fact, I think the _both_ of you have a _lot_ of explaining to do, Tinker Bell." With those words, the children found themselves falling. They cried out in panic, striving to regain altitude as they plummeted towards the deck of the ship. The pirates, who also had heard the voice, gasped as they beheld the children drop. When they were only a few feet from the deck their rapid descent slowed, letting them alight gently and safely.

"Tink? What happened?" Peter asked as she regained her footing. The pixie also stood upon the wooden deck, grounded by the same loss of magic that had affected her charges. Before she could answer, glowing blue mist surrounded both her and Peter, coalescing into magical bands that bound their arms and legs, rendering them immobile. "Tink!" Peter yelped as she lost her balance and fell to her side.

"Great gobs of galleon grease!" Hook barked when he tried to move. He'd intended to get his hand on Pan, to take advantage of her sudden restraint, but he found that his feet wouldn't lift from the deck. A quick glance around showed that his men and all of Pan's brats suffered the same misfortune.

There was a rustling sound, as of a flock of birds alighting in an autumn tree, and the air shimmered in the center of the deck. Two tall forms appeared - a man and a woman. They were regal in their bearings, with crowns upon their brows. On their backs fluttered wings reminiscent of butterflies: fairy wings. Tinker Bell moaned and bowed her head when she recognized the two figures. The rest of the humans remained silent.

Peter pulled herself into a sitting position and stared at the man and woman. She recognized them, but she'd never seen them human-sized, and rarely had she ever seen them outside of Tintagel. "King Oberon, Queen Gloriana," she greeted formally, mindful of her manners enough to bow her head. If she hadn't been bound, she would have kneeled. Peter didn't stand on ceremony unless it suited her… except when it came to Oberon and Gloriana, her godparents.

She looked up again and her breath caught in her throat when her eyes met those of the King. Those eyes glared at her balefully, his face contorted in rage. Peter had never seen Oberon so upset, and Peter had done a great many things that irritated her godfather. A quick glance at Gloriana added to her dismay. Her godmother had always been there too sooth the King, to make everything alright. But the Queen stared at Peter coldly, and the girl knew that she could expect no help there.

"Majesties," Peter called softly, "what's wrong? Why have you bound us?"

"I heard a nasty little rumor, Peter Pan," Oberon hissed angrily. "I heard that you've been lying to me; that you've lied to me from the very beginning. So I came here to see my god _son_ , to ask _him_ to tell me I've heard wrong. But instead of the lad I took in and made my ward, I find a maid! Would anyone care to explain this to me?" The fairy's hands clenched angrily and the glare he fixed on his prisoners promised dire consequences if the answers he received weren't what he wished to hear.

 _Oh, Peter,_ Tink thought in despair. _I'm so sorry. He'll kill me for sure, and as angry as he is, he may kill you too._ The pixie knew there was no escape. The game was up, Peter's secret was out, and she and the little girl were about to pay the ultimate price… and Peter wouldn't even know why.


	6. Fairy Godparents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Peter's blood froze as she realized just how angry her godparents were. "I – I haven't lied to you, sir! I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Are you denying that you are a girl?" Oberon challenged, his eyes flashing. Gloriana raised an eyebrow, but gave no other indication that she wasn't carved from stone.

"No, sir," Peter answered, her confusion mounting. "I guess I'm a girl. What difference does it make?"

"What _difference?_ " Oberon roared, taking a menacing step forward. Gloriana placed a hand on his arm and he halted, but still the Fairy King seemed to tower over the bound girl. "If we had wanted a _girl_ , we would have asked for a _girl_." He gestured at Tinker Bell and the pixie found herself floating before her sovereign. "Did we not specify a boy-child, rich with promise, to be found to serve as our ward?"

"Yes, majesty…" Tink answered, her voice quavering.

"Since Sarah, have we ever adopted any human other than a boy? Are the laws not specific that only a male child will do?"

"Yes, majesty, but Peter…" Tink tried to explain, to point out that no previous child had ever been as strong as Peter.

"And yet you brought us a female? Why?" Oberon asked, his voice suddenly cold steel.

"I didn't know at first!" Tink wailed helplessly. "She was dressed like a boy, she said her name was Peter… the birds that told me about her said she was a boy!"

Oberon let the pixie drop to the deck as he returned his glare back to Peter. "So you've lied to everyone, then. You've betrayed our trust from the start! Do you have anything to say before I pass judgment upon you?"

Peter's mouth dropped open in shock. _Judgment?_ _What?_ Her head spun, everything had gone so terribly awful in such a short time… it was her earliest nightmare come true. "I didn't know I was a girl! The pirates told me yesterday, but I didn't know it was true until this morning!" She glanced at Tink, wondering what her friend had meant by what she'd told Oberon. It wouldn't surprise Peter if Tink hadn't known she was a girl, since no one else had. But somehow, Peter felt sure that her pixie had known everything. _Help me, Tink!_

"You didn't know?" Oberon was incredulous. He didn't think it was possible, but that made him even angrier. "You lying brat!" he hissed. "How stupid do you think we are? You don't deserve our gifts! You don't deserve our protection and you have violated our trust! We revoke our faith in you, Peter Pan, and we withdraw our sponsorship!" He gestured at the girl and Peter screamed.

It was like fire raced along her body, burning every inch of her. Her very soul reeled in shock, feeling as if it was being torn from her. She screamed at the pain, trying to find the words to beg him to stop, to calm down and let her explain. _I didn't know! I don't understand… I thought you loved me!_ She could see the sails of the ship, Hook's standard waving in the breeze above her. Lovely white clouds floated high over that, serene and peaceful, a jarring contrast to the agony that coursed through her. Something snapped free within her heart, leaving her with a final agonizing pull, and the sky began to dim. She couldn't breathe, every gasping breath becoming harder to pull into her failing lungs. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, drowning out almost everything else, but over the din she thought she heard voices speaking urgently. But nothing made sense; her mind was going numb and she only felt a terrible loss inside her when her next heartbeat didn't come. A final convulsion shook her and then darkness covered all.

Pandemonium ruled when Peter began to scream. The children began shouting at the two fairies, begging them to stop and leave their friend alone. They didn't understand why the King was so angry, it was barely registering with them that Peter had admitted to being a girl. But they could plainly see the Fairy King was hurting their leader, and they screamed at him to stop.

The pirates tried to draw back from the scene, knowing that no good could come out of this. While Captain Hook thought it was poetic justice for the fairies to turn on Pan, it struck him that this was a gross miscarriage of justice. "She didn't know!" he roared angrily, fixing his eyes on the Queen. The woman was frowning at Oberon, and her hand was held as if she was trying to decide whether to intervene or not. "Queen Gloriana!" Hook called, deciding to appeal to her instead. Her eyes turned to him and he continued, "I swear to you on my ship and my honor as a gentleman, Peter Pan did not know she was female!" He knew that Peter had denied his accusations yesterday because she didn't believe it, not because she'd tried to cover it up. She'd been too upset when she'd finally accepted the truth to have been faking it.

Gloriana's frown deepened as she listened to the pirate. James Hook had no reason to defend Peter Pan, if anything he should be delighting in this. _Tinker_ _Bell_ _said she didn't know at first… Peter also claimed ignorance. I need to learn more._ Peter's screams halted abruptly as the magic within her was finally wrested free. Oberon held a glowing orb in his hand, the accumulation of everything they'd bequeathed to Peter so long ago. Sadness filled the Queen when she beheld that… she did love Peter dearly, as she loved all the children they'd entrusted Neverland to in the past. But if Peter had lied to them, then how could they trust her with such a responsibility?

"We will send you back to Kensington Gardens, Peter," Oberon said quietly, but stopped when the girl collapsed to the deck. She lay on her back and stared at the sky without blinking, gasping for air.

"Perhaps we should wait, my King," Gloriana suggested, looking at the girl closely. Something was wrong here. "It would be safer to find a successor first, and then transfer the trust to him. If something happens to Peter in the mortal world before a new boy is found, Neverland will still die."

Oberon nodded, staring at the orb thoughtfully. "You're right…"

"Majesties!" Tink screamed, "Peter!"

All eyes turned back to the girl lying on the deck. She was deathly pale, her shallow gasps coming slower and slower until she finally inhaled and stopped. Her glazed eyes remained fixed upon the clouds and everyone waited in vain for her to take another breath.

"You've killed her!" Tink wailed, struggling against her magical bonds. "She didn't know! She forgot everything and she didn't know! You've murdered an innocent!" Then the pixie gasped and faded to a transparent, colorless shade. She stilled as she felt herself weaken, and she knew that Neverland was dying, unable to remain coherent without Peter's imagination to hold it to reality.

A shudder went though the island and the shore began to disappear behind a thick fog. The ship quaked and groaned as its keel settled into mud, the water of Kidd's Creek Bay having faded back into dreams. Oberon and Gloriana stared in shock. They themselves were not directly affected, not being creatures of Neverland. But if the island completely disappeared, thousands of their subjects would disappear with it, never to return. "Peter!" Gloriana whispered, kneeling beside the dead child. She dismissed the bonds around the girl's body, lifting her up and cradling her close. "Oberon! Restore the magic to her, quickly! We must revive her!"

Oberon knelt facing his wife, shock evident on his face. He held the orb over the girl's heart, placing his other hand on her forehead. "I didn't realize it had become such a part of her. I didn't know it would kill her." He closed his eyes and began whispering an incantation, working quickly to restart the girl's heart and bring her back to life. Gloriana said the spell with him, joining her magic with his to create a balance, a balance that must be maintained to coax the girl's soul back into her body and anchor it there once more.

As Neverland continued to fade around them, they sent their magic outwards into the nether-realm, seeking the path Peter's spirit would have taken. A familiar sensation, almost like a scent, alerted them that they'd found her. _Come back to us,_ they called to her, but the anguished soul fled in fear. "You've hurt her too much," Gloriana whispered, "let me call to her myself. Stand ready."

The Queen followed the spirit with her magic, sending out warm, loving thoughts. _Peter, come back. Don't leave us. I'll protect you, I won't let him hurt you, I promise. I love you, my child, and I'm sorry. Come back._ Peter paused at that, but refused to return. Gloriana could sense the girl's distress, her fear and sense of betrayal. The spirit was close to the threshold, nearing that point where no fairy could follow, and Gloriana felt her heart fill with fear and longing. This was the place that was denied to her kind until the end of days, yet this small child could find it so easily. She knew the happiness that awaited Peter if she just went a little further, and she knew she had no right to deny the little girl that. But her people needed Peter Pan, so she called again, promising the girl her love and support. Peter hesitated a moment, then drifted towards her godmother.

Oberon pounced, snaring the spirit with his magic. Peter tried to bolt but she was caught fast. She wailed against this newest betrayal as she fought, but she could only protest as she was dragged from Heaven's gates back to Neverland by the one who had betrayed and killed her. When they felt the girl's spirit re-enter her body, Gloriana sent a magical pulse through her, forcing her heart to beat and her lungs to draw air. At the same time, Oberon poured the magic from the orb into Peter, restoring the magic to the Never-child.

Peter convulsed, the shudders wracking her body as it coped with its sudden reanimation. Gloriana held her tightly, waiting for the girl to adjust and awaken. She fixed a baleful glare on her husband, her lips twisting into a derisive sneer. "You arrogant bastard!" she spat. "She was coming of her own accord, and you trapped her. She'll never trust us again! I promised her I wouldn't let you harm her."

Oberon stood and looked out over the island. As Peter's hold on life strengthened, the magic of the island regained its cohesiveness. "I did what was necessary, Love. We didn't have enough time to pander to this spoiled child. Our people were dying, and you dallied along in an attempt to play nice." He spun to glare at her, "She will remain here until we've found a replacement. After that, she can either go back to her people, or I'll escort her to the afterlife myself."

Peter took a deep breath and opened her eyes once more. "No," she whispered in despair when she saw her godmother's angry face. She wasn't supposed to be here. She'd heard the voices calling to her, promising her peace and happiness, forever. She'd seen the beauty of the light, and it had been ever so much more wonderful than Neverland. But the fairies had lied to her and pulled her back; back to the pain and the unhappiness. At the memory of what had been denied to her, Peter's heart broke and she wept.

Gloriana held the girl and began rocking her, trying to soothe her. She could sense the changes in the child's body and knew she hadn't come though this unscathed. It was a miracle that she'd suffered as little damage as she had by having the magic ripped from her. Using a small bit of power in conjunction with a soft lullaby, she continued to calm the girl until at last Peter fell asleep, exhausted by her ordeal. Gloriana stood, still cradling Peter to her, and faced the King. "Look what you've done to her," she said coldly.

Oberon turned, his eyes widening a bit when he perceived the change. Then he shook himself. "It doesn't matter. She won't be a part of Neverland for much longer."

"Really?" Gloriana snapped angrily. "How long was it until we found Peter? How long did Cory Pan have to remain while he waited for us to find someone to inherit his gift so he could move on? You're a fool if you think we'll simply pick a boy and he'll be the one. It could be years, years that Peter will have to stay here and wait. You _had_ to lose your temper and act." She held the limp figure a bit higher, forcing Oberon to look at the girl again. "Her body had to age to recover from the damage you did to her."

"She's fine," Oberon barked, dismissing the girl. "She's still a child, a year or two added on her doesn't change anything. We will continue this argument later, my Queen. We have other matters to attend to." He turned to look down at Tinker Bell, whose color had returned. "You will return to Tintagel with us, Tinker Bell, to be held accountable for this deception. Even if you didn't know Peter was female at first, you _did_ find out, and you chose to cover it up instead of telling us." Next he turned to regard the humans that watched him in shocked silence. "These boys will also come with us. They are the best candidates to be the next Pan. Perhaps after such long exposures to the magic here, they will have become compatible enough to bear our gift."

Blue mist surrounded the boys, including Billy Jukes, and soon each boy was encased in a bubble. The boys fought, fists beating against the walls of their prisons, muffled shouts of denial and threats of harm against Oberon could barely be heard through the thick barriers. Mullins drew his sword and tried to pierce Billy's bubble, but once it began to float up he couldn't chase it; his feet were still firmly stuck to the deck. Another gesture from the King and the bubbles began shrinking, each occupant shrinking along with it, until all the boys were fairy sized. Then with a loud pop, all of the spheres disappeared, and silence reigned on the ship.

Oberon turned his attention back to Peter. "You, girl, will remain here aboard this pirate ship. I can think of no other punishment more fitting at the moment."

"They'll kill her," Gloriana protested.

Oberon smiled and lightly touched Peter's throat. A shining band of silver appeared around her neck, glinting brightly in the morning sun. "No one shall kill you, Peter, not until your replacement has been found. Tinker Bell claims you had forgotten you were a girl. That is a shame, to forget something so important. You will remember everything you've forgotten, so that when I return to complete your punishment, you will understand why. You will not return to the island until I give you leave, and you certainly shall not fly."

He glanced at Hook then, finally deigning to notice the other humans that had been present all along. "A gift, Captain Hook. I give you Peter Pan. You will not kill her, and you shall not do her lasting harm. I expect her to be in relatively good health when I return… perhaps at that time I will let you keep her for good, if you desire her. This collar will protect her from you and your men, if you become too rough, and will prevent her from doing any harm in return."

Gloriana shook her head at Oberon, but did not object. She would make a better case for her goddaughter in private, when he didn't have to protect his authority. She waited until Oberon disappeared, taking Tinker Bell with him to Tintagel, then turned around to look at the pirate captain again. Keeping Peter cradled to her, she floated to stand before the man, trying to take his measure. _I feel that leaving her with him will make things worse. But I cannot gainsay my King in this, not right now. But he will hear me, loudly, until he sees reason._

Hook stared at the Fairy Queen for a few moments, knowing he was being scrutinized. Then he remembered himself and gave a short bow, trying to show the royal woman proper respect. "Majesty," he said softly, "would you be so kind as to explain to me what has just happened here? And where has my gunner been taken?"

The Queen sighed. "I'm passing to you a great responsibility, Captain. I hope that you will put aside your personal feelings for this child and take proper care of her until we return. Regardless of what my husband has said, I will be very upset if any harm comes to Peter. I promise you and your men great riches if she is in good health and spirits when I see her again.

"As for what has happened," she continued as she placed the girl in the man's arms, "that is a very long tale. Suffice it to say, Peter is not the first Pan that has ruled Neverland, nor will she be the last. Only once before has a girl-child been a Pan, and it very nearly ruined us all. Since then, only boys have been sought. The previous Pan, Cory, grew up a bit faster than we expected he would, but we could not find a boy that could replace him for a long time. When Tinker Bell brought us Peter, and the child passed the tests, we were ecstatic. Perhaps because of this, we failed to notice her true gender. I dare say we were so desperate that we probably would have taken her anyway. But the fact that she deceived us in this leaves us in doubt as to whether she can be trusted any longer with Neverland's safety. The lives of many of my people depend on this island."

Hook looked down at the unconscious girl in his arms. She looked different somehow, and he realized that she had indeed aged some. "What happened to her?"

Gloriana brushed a curl from Peter's face, a pensive frown creasing her own forehead. "We didn't realize her very soul had become so entwined with the magic we gave her. We've never revoked a gift… always the old Pan surrenders it willingly to the new Pan when he is ready to move on. By tearing it from her, my idiot of a husband hurt her, badly. She died, and as part of reviving her, the magic aged her body." Gloriana stepped back. "She will no doubt be distraught when she awakens. Please, be gentle. I need to go now. Your gunner is safe, and if he isn't a match he will be sent back to you, mostly unharmed. That is why I must go now. If Oberon is still angry, he may harm the boys by testing them too much at once. I need to calm him."

Hook nodded. "I won't promise you anything, madam. This is still Peter Pan, regardless of how innocent she seems right now. If she goads me, I can't vouch for my reaction. But I will try to keep her from harm, if you will try to keep my gunner from harm. Bill Jukes is useful to me, and I have no desire to lose him."

"Very well," Gloriana agreed as she faded away. When she was gone, everyone stumbled as their feet were freed from the deck. The men muttered, bewildered by what had happened. They all had heard what the Fairy Queen had said, but that did nothing to alleviate their concerns for their youngest shipmate. But as worried as the pirates were for Billy Jukes, they didn't hold a candle to the worries of one small little girl who sat huddled on the deck, sobbing alone with her fears. Starkey was the first to notice Wendy Darling, so he knelt by the girl and yelled for the other men to be silent.

"Miss Wendy," he called softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

The girl lifted her puffy, tear streaked face, and stared first at Starkey, then at Hook. "My boys… they took my boys…" she sobbed, her voice hitching. "My brothers… what's going to happen to my brothers? Michael? Michael's too little to be without me! Why didn't they let me go too? My boys need me!" She wailed, her hands coming up to cover her face. "And they hurt Peter! Why? How's Peter a girl? Will they hurt me too? What's wrong with being a girl? I don't understand!"

"Starkey," Hook said softly, his heart softening for the distraught little girl. "Take young Wendy to my cabin and see if you can calm her down. Assure her that her boys will be fine, and that Peter is safe for now."

"Aye, Captain," Starkey nodded and picked the girl up. Wendy didn't resist, instead she clung to the man and buried her face in his shoulder, her body shuddering with her cries. With a slight grimace at the wetness soaking into his shirt, Starkey carried her to the Captain's cabin.

"Mason," Hook called, "I want two beds set up in Pan's cabin, one for Peter and one for Wendy. I want pillows and blankets, enough for them both to be comfortable. Add anything else you deem necessary to make the room suitable for two girls. They will likely be our guests for awhile. Smee, I need you to play tailor for me. It seems Peter has suddenly gotten a little tall for her new dress. Find some suitable dresses and alter them for her… maybe one for Wendy too. It might make her feel better."

"So we're babysittin' then, Cap'n?" Mason growled, a smirk on his face.

"Aye, we're babysitting, Mr. Mason. Do you have an issue with that, or would you like to debate the matter with my hook?" the Captain snarled angrily.

"No, sir," Mason backed up hastily. "Just makin' sure I unnerstood th' situation." He nearly ran below to prepare the cabin like Hook had instructed.

Mullins still stared at the place he'd last seen Billy, looking as if he was expecting the boy to reappear any moment now. _He needs to be distracted,_ Hook thought, feeling a bit of sympathy for the man. His heart wasn't completely stone, and he understood that Robert Mullins cared for Jukes. It just didn't do to let his men see his softer side. They'd take it for weakness and try to exploit it. "Mullins!" he barked, and felt satisfaction when the man jumped and turned to look at him. "Go to the cabin Pan was in and help Mason make it livable. Then I want you to put Long Tom away. Mr. Jukes won't be happy when he returns if he finds his cannon has been neglected."

Mullins nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Aye, Cap'n. He'd swear me out in about four different languages." The man made his way below to help Mason, shaking his head. He was worried, but Billy was a tough kid and he had no doubts the boy would be back soon. _Give 'em hell, lad. Show 'em what bein' a pirate's all about._

Hook was relieved to find he was alone at last on the deck. He sat on the nearest barrel and contemplated the girl in his arms. She wasn't sleeping peacefully, that was for certain. Her forehead was creased in a frown and her fists kept clenching and relaxing as she made soft moans and grunts. But, despite her restless sleep, she showed no signs of waking. "Peter, Peter, Peter," Hook clucked, "What have you gotten yourself into?" He wasn't sure how he felt about this situation. It was immensely satisfying to have the girl safely in his clutches, knowing for sure there was no escape for her. There were no Lost Boys to free her and she'd been given into Hook's custody by the fairies themselves.

There was also the bonus satisfaction of knowing how devastating this would be for her, having her special status taken from her along with her friends. But at the same time, Hook was appalled by how Peter had been treated. She was just a child, and they'd tortured and nearly killed her. _Actually, they_ did _kill her. I saw her die._ He closed his eyes, remembering his horror when Pan had stopped breathing. It was wrong for her to die in that manner. She was supposed to die by _his_ hand, not by those who claimed to be her protectors.

"You're better off with me, Pan," Hook said softly as he caressed her face, trying to soothe away her frown. "I'll never betray you like that. You know where you stand with me. And if I see fit to change our relationship, I'll tell you first, not spring it on you as your so-called godparents did." Peter whimpered a bit in her sleep and began to squirm. Humming softly, Hook continued to stroke her cheek while he waited for Mason to finish preparing her quarters.


	7. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"I'll never betray you like that…" the deep voice, so familiar, cut through the swirl of images and voices that assailed her.

 _Yes you will! Always betrayed… they were supposed to_ love _me!_ She ran, fleeing the memories. A large man chased her, his harsh, drunken voice shouting after her.

"Worthless li'l bitch! Ye'll be a whore like yer mum!" He lumbered on, swinging his cane at her. She barely dodged the rod as it whistled past her head.

"I didn't do it, Uncle!" she screamed back at him. Redoubling her efforts, she began to put more distance between him and herself. _Not my fault! I loved her too!_

"Get back here and cook supper, girl!" the man screamed, his voice fading into the distance. "Yer th' death of my family! Everythin' was perfect 'till we took ya in!"

 _Keep running, don't look back. If I stay he'll kill me,_ she thought in fear. _She's gone… she can't stop him anymore… Peter will be fine without me…_

"Don't go," a little boy's voice called. She skidded to a halt as a young boy of four or five materialized out of the mist. "Don't go," he repeated, "you said you'd take care of me. You'd be my mommy now."

"I can't," she cried, shaking, "I'm just eight years old! I don't know how to be a mommy! He hurts me! He loves _you_ , you're his _son_. I'm sorry!"

She turned away, ignoring his calls for her, and continued to run. She didn't know where she was going; everything seemed the same in the darkness. All that mattered was that she didn't stop, didn't let the memories catch her. Laughter fell on her ears, and the sound of running feet behind her. It was familiar laughter, the laughter of many older boys. Their shadows coalesced out of the mist, surrounding her. "No," she moaned, terror gripping her as she realized she was surrounded.

"Hey li'l girl," one of the faceless teens called. "You _are_ a girl, aincha? Been lyin' to us, aye?"

"LIAM!" she screamed, looking around frantically for her friend and protector.

"He dressed ya up real good, fooled us right proper," another boy said, reaching for her. "Why don't ya take that off 'n let us find out what ya _really_ are."

More hands seized her as the darkness closed upon her. She couldn't move - she couldn't do anything but scream as invisible hands began tearing at her clothes. Voices from invisible mouths taunted and jeered her, laughing to one another.

"Li'l young, eh? Liam must'a liked 'em young."

"Better'n 'im likin' li'l boys, like we thought."

"Ain't she cute? Ain't even got tits yet."

"LIAM!" she screamed again. He was supposed to protect her, he'd promised. But he couldn't now. Not anymore. He'd given her up to the gang to save face. He'd betrayed her. But when they'd come for her, he'd given his life to give her enough time to run. _You were my friends… I was part of your gang… why do you want to hurt me? Why did you kill Liam over me?_ "Why, Liam?" she sobbed.

"He ain't comin'. Why you wanna play with him? You can play with us fer a change." The voices continued as they began to argue over who'd play first.

Where were the birds? They were supposed to save her… they'd saved her before. "Help me! Solomon!" But this time there was no salvation. No rustling wings descended upon the boys. There were no cries of pain from her would-be rapists as her rescuers drove them away. No soft feathers to soothe her bruised arms and legs, no sweet birdsong to calm her tears and make her smile.

Instead, a woman's voice gradually filled her ears, drowning out the boys and forcing the darkness away. The memories faded away again and she let them go in relief. She would be happy without them. The fairies had promised her she'd be happy and loved… but they'd lied to her. Betrayed again.

She focused on the words, the voice, feeling peace descend upon her. It was one of her favorite stories, and it brought back feelings from happier times, the last time she'd been truly loved. The last time she'd been allowed to be herself.

"Auntie?" she called hopefully and opened her eyes.

Hook sat on the small bunk and held Peter close, restraining her as much as possible as she writhed. She'd become so animated in the last half hour that she'd fallen from her bed and lashed out with fists and feet whenever someone had tried to touch her. The man could have just left her to her nightmares, maybe sat back and watched her torment while enjoying a glass of wine, except that he was afraid she'd hurt herself. The fairy king had said he might give Peter to him if he desired her. That prospect was too tempting, the idea of having Pan permanently in his power, with no concern that she may escape, was simply delicious. And Hook thought he'd be more likely to receive that delightful gift if he showed the strange pixie that he could be trusted to not break or neglect her.

So he contemplated Peter in silence, ignoring the story Wendy was reciting in her effort to calm the girl down. _She'll make a good mother when she grows up. She has rare patience and tenderness._ Her story was some inane tale he vaguely recalled hearing before, long ago. Peter's words were what interested him. Whatever she was dreaming, it seemed to be terrifying. Most of her words were indecipherable, but some names stood out. Peter, Liam, Solomon… she called to them desperately. Why would she cry her own name? Was that how she obtained her masculine name, by taking it from someone she'd known?

By degrees, the distraught girl calmed, and as her struggles and cries lessened, both Hook and Wendy relaxed. Wendy's shaking voice steadied and her story became more detailed and coherent as she began to _think_ about what she was saying. Starkey had done a good job of calming her earlier, but Peter's distress had upset her again. Once Hook had gotten the thrashing girl in hand, Wendy had insisted on telling a story, saying that it had helped to calm Peter's nightmares before. She did admit, however, that Peter had _never_ been this bad in the past.

After a seeming eternity, Peter lay peaceful in sleep. _Finally_ , Hook thought with a sneer as he shifted her, ready to put her down and go back to his own business. But then she gave a sigh and said, "Auntie?" Then she opened her eyes.

Hook smiled in amusement at the rainbow of emotions that flickered across her face in that instant: disappointment, confusion, dawning realization, fear, and then finally anger. She scowled back at Hook, realizing the compromising position she was in.

"Let go of me," she barked as she struggled to sit up. Wendy's recitation of her story stopped abruptly as she realized her audience was awake at last.

"Peter!" she sang happily, relieved and overjoyed to see her friend.

Peter turned her head and saw Wendy sitting beside her. She flushed, embarrassed that someone had seen her being held like a baby by Captain Hook. "Hello, Wendy," she muttered, still pulling against Hook's grip. "Let me GO, Codfish!" she nearly screamed, anger and shame making their close contact intolerable.

"Peter!" this time Wendy's voice cracked with authority, her tone indicating displeasure. When Peter turned to stare at her, eyes wide with surprise, she continued to scold her. "Captain Hook has been kind enough to help us. You have no reason to be so rude to him!"

"No reason?" Peter protested, but Wendy barreled on, venting her anxieties.

"He's held you while you were having a nightmare and helped me calm you down. You should apologize and thank him."

"No," Peter snapped, "I will not! I wasn't having a nightmare, and even if I had, I don't care if Codfish sang me a lullaby, I'll not thank him for it!"

Hook had neither expected nor wanted an apology or thanks from Pan, and had been quite amused to watch Wendy scold Peter. But Peter's blatant refusal to do either, regardless of the circumstances, was rather galling. Hook stood abruptly, tumbling Peter out of his lap onto the floor. "You are an exceptionally rude little girl, Pan," he snarled as he glared at her. Peter sat on the floor and glared back, undaunted. "You would do well to learn some manners."

Hook paused a moment as an idea came to him, and a slow smile lit his face. "You have many lessons to learn, young _lady_. And learn them you shall. As long as you are my… guest," Hook sneered the word as his smile turned to a grin, "you will look and act as a proper young lady should. You will continue to dress appropriately, you will learn good manners and USE them, and you will be proper and modest in all things."

Peter had begun laughing when Hook mentioned learning manners. She howled when he said she would be proper and modest. But Wendy's firm voice made the laughter die in a heartbeat.

"I think that's a wonderful idea," she said primly, glaring at Peter. When Peter gaped at her, dumbfounded, she turned to smile at Hook. "I thank you, Captain, for helping me calm Peter. I don't know what I would have done without you. And I apologize for Peter's rudeness. I thought I taught him… umm, her… better."

Hook bowed politely. "You're welcome and I accept your apology, Miss Wendy. But the best time for Miss Pan to start learning basic manners is now."

"I have manners," Peter answered coldly, "but I'll not waste the effort on you." She blamed her predicament on Hook. If he hadn't caught her, her godparents wouldn't have turned on her. The memory of that betrayal pierced her heart and anger warred with grief within her.

Hook ignored the girl, keeping his gaze on Wendy. "You, Miss, are invited to dine with me this evening. It has been a most trying day for you, I know, and I will do my best to accommodate you. Mr. Smee will come collect you in a few hours."

Wendy nodded, "What about Peter?"

Peter snorted, but Hook merely smiled. "If she decides to behave and be civil to me, she may come. Until then, I have important things to take care of." He tipped his hat at both of them and left, locking the door behind him.

Peter and Wendy glared at each other in silence for a moment, then Peter spat, "Traitor."

Wendy startled at that, shocked. "Peter Pan! What has gotten into you? Why are you being so mean?"

"Why did you side with Hook?"

"Because he's been helping me all day with you! Because he and the pirates have been extremely nice for once and I don't want to ruin that," Wendy explained. "We're trapped here, Peter, and our boys have been taken away! We can't keep Hook as an enemy right now!"

Peter frowned, taken aback. "Taken away? Who took the boys away?"

"King Oberon took them somewhere," Wendy replied, tears filling her eyes again. "Even Michael. He said that one of them might be the next Pan. I don't understand what he meant by that."

The world spun and everything suddenly seemed much too bright. "The next Pan?" Peter whispered, her eyes going wide. "They're going to replace me? Just because I'm a girl… why?" _What will happen to me then? They'll send me away! Back to the real world. I can't… I can't go back there!_ She didn't know why the thought of returning there for good frightened her so, but it did. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I guess that's it then," she sighed, "they don't want me anymore. Fine! I don't care!" But she did care; she cared so much she felt like she was dying inside. And she wished she really was, because then the pain would stop.

"What will happen to the Lost Boys?" Wendy asked, wiping away her tears. "Will they be okay?"

Peter nodded, trying to concentrate on the situation at hand and not what might be. "They'll be tested, like I was when Tink first brought me here. It's uncomfortable at times, I remember it actually hurt once, but in then end it was wonderful. I don't remember what they did to me; I just remember how it felt. They'll be fine… and if one of them is the next Pan, they'll replace me and King Oberon will get rid of me."

"Get rid of you?" Wendy whispered, finally seeing how upset the other girl was. She reached out for her friend and hugged her, squeezing tightly when Peter hugged her back. "Oh, Peter, I'm so sorry. I've been so worried about you and everyone, I forgot how horrible it's been for you."

"Please don't be mad at me anymore, Wendy," Peter whispered, "I can't lose you too. Everything's so wrong! I'm a girl… I didn't know I was a girl… I don't know what I'm supposed to do!"

Wendy welcomed the role of the comforting mother, slipping into it effortlessly. It allowed her to distance herself from her worries, and she concentrated on the girl in her arms. Peter buried her head in Wendy's shoulder and let the girl stroke her back, savoring the affection. "I know Peter, but it'll be alright. I'll teach you what you need to know. Girls are better than boys, we're smarter."

"I'm sorry I can't be your son anymore," Peter sniffed.

Wendy paused for a moment, and a large smile spread across her face. "I have plenty of sons, Peter. But now I have a daughter. I've always wanted a daughter!" She resumed rubbing Peter's back, giggling in delight. "A little girl of my own, to dress up and teach how to be a mother herself one day. And someone to help me cook and clean."

Peter groaned and pulled back. "I don't want to change, Wendy. Why do I have to change? I'm still the same person; the only thing that's different about me is that everyone knows."

Wendy looked perplexed, confused by the question. "I don't know, Peter. But there are rules about boys and girls. We're different and we are supposed to do things differently. Girls are as good as boys, maybe even better, and there's nothing a boy can do that we can't. But there are some things boys do that we _shouldn't_. I'll teach you, and Captain Hook will help me."

Peter shook her head defiantly. "I'll be a good daughter and listen to you, Wendy, but don't make me obey Hook. He's still the same, too, and he wants nothing more than to hurt me. I don't care what he did while I was asleep. You didn't see how he treated me yesterday."

"He told me he captured you while you were showering and that you didn't believe you were a girl at first. And he said that you didn't want to wear the dress," Wendy answered, curious as to what else may have happened.

"I didn't want to wear it, and he got angry. We fought and I nearly won, but then he went crazy. He ripped off my clothes, Wendy!" Peter snarled, her anger rising at the memory. It wasn't that he'd stripped her that was upsetting; it was how he'd made her feel. He'd terrorized her, and she remembered well the mind numbing fear that had consumed her. For some reason, it had scared her more than anything else she could remember. Not only did she hate him for striking that terror in her heart, she hated him also for gaining that victory over her, for accomplishing something no one in Neverland had ever done: made her truly afraid. "He pinned me on the floor and ripped off my clothes and left me in here in the dark, naked, with nothing to wear but that horrible dress!"

Wendy's eyes became wide and she stared at Peter, stricken. "That… that _monster_!" she hissed. "Don't worry, Peter, I won't let him touch you again!"

Peter chuckled, her amusement at Wendy's words helping to quell her anger. "I can take care of Codfish, Wendy. I've done it for all this time and I can still do it now."

"But you're my daughter!" Wendy protested, "I have to take care of you! Though," she paused, a troubled look crossing her face. "It is rather awkward, having a daughter that is older than me."

"I'm not older than you, Wendy. We're the same size."

Wendy took Peter's hand and squeezed it gently. "A few things happened when Oberon was here, Peter. Things you don't know about. He did something to you, something that hurt you. You died… but they brought you back. Do you remember that?"

Peter stared into Wendy's dark eyes, thinking back to what seemed only a short time ago. She remembered Oberon's words, and the pain that had filled her. Something nagged at her mind, something that made her heart ache. She heard her godmother calling to her, asking her to come back… "But the light was so warm and pretty," Peter whispered, "I didn't want to come back, Wendy, I could see Heaven. But Gloriana called to me, she said she needed me. Then Oberon grabbed me and made me come back." Her voice hitched and pain filled her heart. "They lied. They don't need me. They don't want me anymore. But they made me come back anyway. I could have been happy, but they made me come back."

"Oh Peter," Wendy sighed, "I'm sorry. But I'm glad you came back. I would have been so sad if you left without me and didn't even say goodbye." Then she took a deep breath and continued. "It changed you, Peter. You got a little older."

"Older?" Peter stared at her in alarm. "How much older?" She looked down at herself, trying to gauge the change. She couldn't see anything different, but the dress covered her too well for that to mean anything. Deciding on fixing that problem at least, Peter stood and began trying to reach around to unfasten the buttons in the back of her dress. "Help me, Wendy?" she asked after she'd failed miserably to reach the top buttons.

Wendy began unbuttoning Peter's dress, but paused in shock when she saw the ugly bruises that covered her back. "What happened here?" she asked, gingerly touching the girl's skin.

"When Hook and I fought over the dress, he threw me into the wall," Peter answered, tugging at the bow behind her. That at least she could reach. "It stunned me enough for him to pin me to the floor."

"How could he? How could he fight a little girl like that?" Wendy snapped angrily as she finished undoing the buttons.

"I'd rather him fight me like that," Peter answered, "It's how we've always fought. I don't like it when he treats me like I'm different now."

"But…" Wendy began.

Peter turned to face her, staring at her intently. "I'm the same, Wendy. I'm still Peter Pan. I'm still the one that cut off his hand, and I'm still the one he's vowed to kill. I'll not change for him. For you I'll try to be more like a lady, someone you'd be proud to call your daughter. But not for him… he's an evil man and I'll never bend to him."

They stared a moment longer, and Peter blinked in surprise when she realized that she was now looking down a bit to look at her friend. "Oh, Wendy, what did they do to me?" She struggled to get out of the dress, and once it lay pooled around her feet she looked down to stare at herself. There were a few changes, changes she didn't understand. The areas around her nipples were swollen, forming two small mounds that reminded her of Tiger Lily's shape. Her hips also stood out a bit more prominently, the beginnings of a waistline that was also reminiscent of the Indian princess. Even more shocking was to discover that she now had a light growth of hair in the region between her legs - something that she'd never heard of and just somehow didn't seem right.

Wendy gasped as she saw her friend's naked body. "I – you… you ARE a girl! I thought I believed it… but…" She shook her head, trying to overcome her shock. As long as she'd known Peter, she felt something special for the boy, and she'd loved him in a way she'd never loved anyone else. When she'd seen Peter in the dress, it had been weird, but she'd still seen the boy. But now… now there was no denying it anywhere in her heart that Peter was truly a girl. It took her a few moments to accept this new reality.

Peter was on the verge of tears again, something she was getting well and truly tired of. But then, if she'd ever had reason to cry since she came to Neverland, her present situation was it. And now to see that her godfather had taken away what amounted to years of her life, years that would have translated to decades or more in Neverland, it was almost as cruel as when he'd snatched her from Heaven's gate.

"Do I look much like you?" Peter whispered, looking away from the overwhelming changes her body was showing. "Am I normal? Is this supposed to happen when you grow?"

Sympathy and understanding filled Wendy and she smiled at Peter in what she hoped was a reassuring way. "You really don't know, do you? What you are, that is. No one's told you or warned you." She bit her lip, thinking frantically about how best to reassure her friend. "I think this is normal. I've seen my mother undress before, sometimes she'd have me help her get ready for a party and I'd see her. It's not bad for girls to see each other naked I think. You look a bit like that, but more like me than her, so you're more like a little girl than a grown woman." Finally she decided and began to pull off her own dress.

Peter backed up a step, looking at her in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to show you, so you won't worry so much about if you're normal," Wendy answered, her voice muffled as she pulled the dress over her head. She began talking off her shoes and stockings, then pulling off her undershirt. Soon she stood completely unclad, blushing lightly at the way Peter stared at her. "See? We're a lot alike, but you're older now. I'll look more like you when I grow up some."

Peter nodded, staring at Wendy. First Billy, now Wendy… the only two other people besides herself that she'd seen unclothed. It was rather strange, but considering how strange everything else was right now it really didn't shock her too much. Seeing Wendy was actually a relief, alleviating a fear that she hadn't really realized she had till now. Was she normal? She'd compared herself to boys all these years, and Billy had proved that she didn't belong in that category. Being able to compare herself to Wendy and see that she belonged gave her a footing, solidifying again her sense of identity. She was like Wendy and Tiger Lily. There were others like her, she belonged somewhere. She wasn't a freak. "Thank you, Wendy," she whispered and began to pull her own dress back on.

Wendy smile and started to get dressed herself. When she was done, she helped Peter, who was once again having problems with the buttons on her dress. But as much as she tried, she couldn't get the buttons fastened again. She began pulling, trying to stretch the cloth in an effort to pull the button close to the button-hole, but it just wouldn't reach.

"Stop," Peter gasped as the tight fabric squeezed her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"Just suck in your stomach," Wendy grunted, pulling as much as she could. Peter complied and she got a few buttons done. Continuing in that way, eventually the girls got the dress fastened again, though Wendy was worried that a couple would pop if Peter wasn't careful.

Peter turned to look at her, a pained expression on her face. "I really hate this dress, Wendy." She'd noticed it had felt more constricting when she'd awakened, but now it was definitely too tight. _I suppose I grew in it and it stretched, and now I can't pack myself back into it right. I almost wish I'd grown a bit more so I could have split the seams and not have to wear it again._

Wendy giggled and nodded. "That's okay. Mr. Smee is making another one for you and one for me too. Maybe he'll bring it by soon."

"Wonderful," Peter groaned, not relishing the prospect of more dresses to wear.

Hook sat in his cabin and watched Smee and Starkey as they bickered over the two dresses. Smee was a surprisingly accomplished tailor, and Hook trusted the man implicitly to see to all his wardrobe needs. Many of his clothes had been tailored from scratch by the old bosun. Starkey on the other hand had good taste in clothes (as did Hook), but he had more experience with women's fashions. Starkey explained this knowledge as a result of his many lady friends that he'd bought clothes for in his days before he became a pirate (and had indicated that he chose piracy to pay off some outstanding debts he had acquired). Hook wasn't sure if he believed that, but he didn't really care either. The man knew his way around a dress, and that was all the Captain cared about right now.

 _If one idiot knows how to design a dress, and the other idiot knows how to sew one, then it would seem that together they should be able to make a dress._ Starkey and Smee were engaged in a rather heated argument over some stupid aspect of the gown. Hook paid them little mind; they'd fought over everything from color to which buttons to use. The only reason he didn't knock them senseless was that they were actually making progress, and their basic ideas for the dresses were decent enough. Altering the remaining dresses Hook had in the chest was out of the question. They were meant for grown women and it would be nearly impossible to take them in enough for two young girls to wear. _Perhaps if I can keep her, she'll grow up and wear them for me one day._ Hook felt his smile widen.

The more he entertained the idea of being given Peter Pan, the more he wanted the girl. And the more he wanted the girl, the more determined he was that she would learn how to dress and act as a proper young lady. While killing her would slake his thirst for vengeance, conquering her would be much more satisfying. _I will make her submit to my will, I will mold her into my ideal of a young woman, and when Oberon replaces her with a boy and gives me final custody of her, she will already be properly trained._

Hook wasn't sure what he would do with a young girl aboard a ship. Perhaps he could get use out of her as a chamber maid. Billy Jukes had been rather useless as a cabin boy, always breaking things and forgetting his duties, so Peter could fulfill that duty. The idea of Peter cleaning his quarters and pressing his shirts made him smile. Or he could put her to work in the kitchen. While Hook doubted the girl knew how to cook, she at least had enough common sense that she could stop Cookson from putting in the more questionable ingredients.

But first, she must be trained. And who better to help him train the willful little wench than Wendy Darling. Peter would rather die than acquiesce to any of Hook's demands that she behave properly, and knowing the girl, she just may provoke him sufficiently to do just that. But Wendy… Wendy had already showed that she agreed with Hook that Peter should learn her manners and act properly. And Peter always listened to his dear, beloved Wendy. All Hook would have to do is keep Wendy in his pocket, convince her that he only had the best of intentions in teaching Peter, that he was being a gentleman by offering his assistance, and the motherly little girl would side with him in bending Peter to his will. And with Wendy's influence over the hapless girl, Peter _would_ bend.

 _Just keep Wendy happy, and Peter is mine to do with as I please._ His grin turned feral, anticipating the day when Pan became the proper, obedient, modest girl that stood for everything Peter Pan abhorred today. _And she will be mine. My perfect little lady._


	8. Mind Your Manners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8

Chapter 8

During the course of the next hour or so, Wendy told Peter in more detail about what had happened since Oberon had nearly killed her. Peter listened in stunned silence when she described how Hook had held her, even speaking to her softly to try to calm her until Wendy had decided to try a fairy tale instead. It just didn't make sense to the eternal girl, Hook was an evil, selfish man, and for him to act caring was surely a bad omen. _But he did help me when I was throwing up… he seemed nice then until I was better._ Peter was just about to ask Wendy why she thought the man was acting strangely, when a heavy knock sounded on the door.

They looked at each other uncertainly, confused as to why a pirate would bother to knock on the door of their prison. "Come in?" Wendy called, deciding to find out what was going on.

Robert Mullins unlocked the door and pushed it open, fumbling to draw his sword without dropping the tray of food he carried. He _really_ wasn't supposed to be in here, especially not without someone to help him keep Pan from escaping. But they'd all heard what Oberon had said to Peter: she was exiled from the island and she couldn't harm the pirates. _I'd still rather not trust to the pixie's magic to keep her in line, but I wanna talk to her without the Cap'n around._ Mullins was afraid of what was going to happen to Billy, and he was riddled with guilt over the fight he'd had with the boy. They hadn't made up by the time Oberon had taken him away.

Peter's eyes lit up when she saw the food on the tray, and her stomach suddenly gave a rather loud growl. She smiled at the sound and giggled, putting her hand over her stomach. Wendy frowned at the rude noise, but smiled again a moment later when Peter winked at her. It relieved her to see Peter's spirits were up again.

Mullins himself chuckled when he heard the girl's stomach growl. "Figured you were hungry. Heard Billy mention to th' Cap'n that ya didn't eat all day yesterday, and by the contents of th' bucket I lugged outta here, ya sicked up breakfast." At Peter's nod, Mullins kicked the door closed behind him and pointed his sword at the two girls. "I don't want no trouble outta ya. I wanna ask ya a few questions an I thought ya'd be a bit eaiser to get on with if you weren't starvin'. Promise me that neither of ya will try to escape, an' I'll feed ya."

"I promise," Wendy swore, worried to hear that Peter had gone a day and a half with no food.

Peter considered the offer for a few seconds, comparing her likelihood of escaping with the big churning emptiness in her stomach. Her immediate need for food won out and she nodded. "I promise. I can't very well escape without Wendy, and she's already promised."

Mullins sheathed his sword and carried the tray to Peter, who moved to sit Indian style on the bed. She set the tray in her lap and began to devour the bread and dried venison, washing it down with the large glass of milk.

"Don't inhale your food, Peter!" Wendy insisted, worried the other girl would choke herself.

"Ah, let 'er eat, girl. She's starved," Mullins chided. He liked to see a girl with an appetite - they tended to be more honest. Then he shook his head and added, "though ya might teach her how ta sit in a dress."

Peter looked at Mullins quizzically and swallowed her mouthful. "Why? What difference does it make how I sit?"

"I can see up yer skirt, Miss Pan," Mullins said, grinning. "Ya should be mindful of it when yer sittin', bendin', and flyin'."

Peter actually blushed and shifted around so her legs were together and skirt remained down. "I hate this dress," she growled as she viciously bit into the meat.

"Looks like yer gonna pop outta it," Mullins added, giving her an appraising look. _How much did she age? Hard to tell with that dress so tight, but she looks like she's developed some._

"Mr. Smee is supposed to make her a new one," Wendy said softly, watching Peter eat. Peter offered her some of the food with a muttered apology, but she smiled and said, "No, thank you, I ate lunch with Mr. Starkey, so you go ahead and eat it all."

There was a small table against the wall with two chairs, so Mullins sat and considered Pan. He didn't care if Peter Pan was a girl or a boy, she was still the enemy. He'd long ago declared womankind his enemy and he had no problem fighting her now just as he did before. He didn't hate women, they just couldn't be trusted. They were too adept at twisting a man's heart to make him their toys and wouldn't hesitate to break a man's soul and leave him weeping in the dust if it suited them. He wasn't happy about having _two_ of the vixens onboard, it was doubling the trouble. But a _naked_ woman on board was enough good luck to counter several clothed ones, and Pan had been naked aboard for the entire previous day. He could put up with them for now.

"I wanna talk to ya 'bout Billy," he announced when Peter had finished eating.

Peter belched loudly. She grinned until she caught Wendy's withering look. Her smiled turned apologetic and she mumbled, "Excuse me." Once Wendy was placated, she turned to Mullins. "What about Billy?"

"I wanna know what those overgrown pixies have planned fer 'im," Mullins elaborated.

"They'll test him and the Lost Boys, to see if one of them can be the next Pan," Peter answered, her voice bitter. "I don't remember much about it when they did it to me, just flashes of stuff. Sometimes it was nice, even fun. Sometimes it hurt. They made me feel and see things, things the fairies can see. And when I passed the tests, they made me the Pan."

"And if Billy don't pass?" Mullins pressed, worried they'd harm his shipmate.

"They'll send him back here. If I had money, I'd bet he'll be the first one sent back. He's too old. Slightly probably is too," Peter grimaced, glancing down at herself. "If I wasn't already the Pan, I'd be too old now too. Even if Oberon wanted me, he'd still have to start looking for a new Pan. He's aged me too much." _How could he? If he didn't want me anymore, why steal my life away like that? Why didn't he just send me away?_

Mullins saw the pain in the girl's face and guessed she was remembering the day before. "So, they won't harm Billy?" he pressed.

"I never said that," Peter answered softly. "I said they'll send him back. He may be fine when he comes back, or the tests might make him crazy, since he's so much older. There was a boy here once that I made friends with. The fey broke his mind with their tests. They gave him a home here and took care of him, because they felt bad that they'd hurt him so much. He was funny and kind, but forgetful and he talked to things that weren't there." Remembering JoJo made Peter's already heavy heart hurt worse, and she idly picked at a loose thread on her skirt.

"That's horrible," Wendy gasped, her worry for her brothers returning tenfold. "What happened to this boy?"

Peter shrugged and seemed to fold in on herself. "When I first brought Slightly to Neverland, JoJo tried kill him. I don't know why, he just attacked him for no reason. He wouldn't stop and his watch-fairy's magic didn't work on him. So I killed him."

The three sat in silence for a little while, then Mullins stood and picked up the tray. "If they harm my Billy, I'll squash those pixies like bugs."

Peter nodded, "Good," and resumed picking at the thread. She and Wendy remained silent long after Mullins left, each lost in their own whirls of anxiety.

Hook stared at the two girls in disbelief, not sure why Wendy's attitude towards him had suddenly soured so much. It was late afternoon and he had summoned Pan and Wendy to the deck to be fitted for their dresses before suppertime. He preferred to do it in his cabin, out of sight of the other men, but Smee's eyes needed the sunlight to do this right. But when he'd asked the girls to stand on the stools, Wendy had rather coldly declined.

"Excuse me, Miss Wendy, but did you just tell me 'no'?" Hook finally asked. Peter smirked at him and the man fought down the urge to backhand her.

"You heard me, Captain. I will not cooperate with you until you apologize to Peter," the little girl demanded with a disdainful toss of her head.

"Apologize?" Hook nearly sputtered. "For _what_ , pray tell?"

"For seeing Peter naked," Wendy began counting the offenses on her fingers, "for _stripping_ her and ruining the only clothes she owned, for leaving her naked and cold, in the dark, all day with no food, and I believe one of your crewmen struck her this morning! Isn't a Captain responsible for the actions of his crew?"

Hook thought furiously as his rational mind tried to consider her request while battling with the irrational urge to throttle her and skewer Pan. _I need her on my side. I must be the gentleman; she trusts that side of me for some ungodly reason. Be civil and overwhelm her._

"You are right, my dear," he said at last, and the genuine tone of his voice shocked him as much as it shocked his crew. "I apologize to you, first of all, for being such an inconsiderate host." Wendy smiled at him and gave a short curtsey. Peter just rolled her eyes. "And Miss Pan," Hook continued, turning his attention to his old enemy, "my deepest apologies." For added effect, Hook dropped to one knee and grabbed the unsuspecting girl's hand. "I have been a boor to you, for which I have no excuse. I have wronged and offended you, and my men have behaved shamefully towards you. I humbly beg your forgiveness, my dear girl."

Peter's eyes widened in shock when Hook took her hand and she tugged against his iron grip in a futile attempt to get free. The fact that Hook was apologizing to her like this only illustrated how insincere he was. On the rare occasions he'd ever expressed true regret, he did it softly, humbly, and it was reflected in his eyes.

Wendy smiled in delight at Hook's demonstration of good form and felt a surge of pride at how she'd gotten him to do this. But her good feelings began to turn to disapproval when she saw Peter try to pull away without accepting the gracious apology. "Peter!" she snapped, "Accept his apology. It's only proper."

Peter looked at her in disbelief and sighed in exasperation. That look in her eyes meant she was prepared to go all the way in this. Having suffered Wendy's silent treatment before and not keen on being alone again on the ship, Peter decided to play along. She gave Hook her sweetest smile and quit pulling against him. "I accept your apology, Captain Hook."

Hook smiled and kissed the back of her hand, as was proper. It was all he could do to not laugh at the horrified look on her face. But when he released her hand and she wiped it on her dress, a flush of anger filled him at the insult. Before he could make a cutting remark, though, Wendy spoke up.

"Now it's your turn, Peter. Apologize to the Captain and thank him like you should have earlier," she instructed.

"But Wendy…" Peter protested.

"No buts, Peter!" Wendy snapped. "You can be just as courteous as the Captain when you choose to be. Now mind your manners!"

 _Now that's the Wendy I want to see._ Hook smiled and looked at the red-faced Pan expectantly.

"Sorry for being rude and thanks for your help, Codfish," Peter said quickly, looking away to hide her discomfort.

"That is probably the most insincere claptrap I've ever heard," Hook sneered. "It's more insulting than your insults."

"Try again, Peter," Wendy scolded, "and do it right."

Peter glared first at Wendy, then at Hook. She locked eyes with the pirate and growled, "I'm sorry, Captain. Thank you." She hated being forced to do something, and felt it was an affront to say something she didn't mean.

Hook shook his head and sighed. "Really, Pan, if that's the best you can do, then why bother?"

"What _else_ am I supposed to do?" Peter exploded.

Hook turned to Wendy and gave her a warm, knowing smile. "You see, my dear? It's such a pity that a lovely young girl like Pan can be so common and rude. Allow me and I'll see if I can teach her how to act."

Wendy looked uncertain, alarmed at what tactics of 'persuasion' Hook may use. Hook saw her hesitation and raised his hand in a peaceful gesture. "I will not harm her. You are my guests, entrusted to me by Pan's godparents. I dare not violate that trust. They'd use their magic to curse my ship." Wendy accepted that reasoning and smiled, nodding in approval.

Hook leered at Peter. "Now, try again, Pan. I was courteous to you when I offered my apologies. You should reply in kind."

Peter felt cold rage grow in her heart, and it was just as much for Wendy as it was for Hook. She'd sided with the Captain again. _Betrayed._ "Fine," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "Once more." She gave the man a smile that belied the anger in her eyes and said as calmly as she could, "I apologize, Captain, for my rudeness. And I would like to thank you for assisting Wendy and me." She stared at Hook, waiting for the man to give his response so they could be done with this stupid game.

Hook counted to ten slowly, relishing the fury he saw rising in Pan. This was turning out to be more fun that he'd thought it would be. When he reached ten he spoke, "You forgot to curtsey, Miss Pan."

Peter's anger and hate boiled over and she screamed in fury, launching herself at the man. She had only taken one step towards him, though, when a jolt went through her body. Her limbs fell numb and she collapsed to the deck, landing in a heap. She was briefly aware of a burning around her neck when just as suddenly it was gone and she could move again. To her horror she heard laughter. Looking up, she saw she was lying at Hook's feet. The crew was laughing at her and Mason was making comments about her 'womanly grace'. Hook was grinning as he bent to offer her his hand, and even Wendy had an amused smile that tempered the concerned look she gave her.

Peter knocked Hook's hand away and stood on her own. The dress felt looser than it had before and she realized she'd finally burst the buttons out of it. The men noticed too and their howling laughter intensified. "I hate you," Peter spat, backing away from Hook, "and I'll never bow _or_ curtsey to you! You're a filthy pirate."

Hook nodded, seeing he'd pushed her enough for now. "Fine then, Peter. Until you can apologize to me, civilly, then I have nothing further to say to you." He turned back to Wendy. "Miss, if you'll stand on the stool, we will fit you and Peter for your dresses. Smee will have to put something together quickly for Miss Pan, she's ruined the dress I so kindly gave her."

Wendy nodded curtly, not looking at Peter, and climbed onto the stool. She chatted amiably with Smee while the old man began measuring her.

Peter watched warily, fingering the collar. Wendy had pointed it out to her and told her what Oberon had said when he'd put it on her. It was so light that Peter hadn't even realized she was wearing it. It was warm and soft, but strong. It fit so close to her skin that, try as she might, she hadn't been able to get so much as her pinky finger under it. It was definitely magic, she could still feel it tingle around her neck, and Peter had no doubt it had kept her from attacking Hook. _Oberon has leashed me like a dog. I didn't do anything wrong!_ She realized suddenly that Wendy was beckoning for her to get on the other stool and she sighed in annoyance. Wendy was angry at her, but Peter really didn't care right now. _I can be angry too! She's not_ really _my mother._ Instead of complying, Peter crossed her arms and turned her back on all of them. _If you like Hook so much, go be_ his _friend, then._

Hook let her sulk in peace while Smee finished with Wendy. Once the girl was measured, though, Hook turned to consider Pan. _Be civil, be pleasant, and when she balks as I know she will, it will only incense Wendy further against her._ "Miss Pan, if you would please take the stool, we will measure you for your new dress."

Peter didn't turn, but glared at the other men on deck. None of them so much as glanced up from their chores to look at her, but she did see Starkey smile. "I don't want a dress. Surely you have pants I can wear, Codfish."

"No girl will stay aboard my ship in boy's clothing," Hook reminded her. "Now please, stand on the stool."

Peter turned then and glared challengingly at Hook. "Make me, Codfish."

Hook growled angrily at the challenge, clenching his fist in an effort to suppress his urge to strike her. Before he could do something he'd regret Wendy stepped in again.

"Peter!" the young girl scolded, "Captain Hook asked you politely…"

"Oh shut up, Wendy!" Peter snapped, her patience broken. "This isn't about manners. I'm Peter Pan, and I do what _I_ want. And I'll die before I let a grown-up, especially Hook, make me into something I don't want to be!" She kept her glare locked on Wendy, taking grim satisfaction at the look on her face. "I love you, Wendy, and I always try to make you happy. But now is not the time for your stupid rules!"

"Stupid?" Wendy whispered, hurt that Peter was being so unreasonable and mean. She was trying to keep peace between Hook and Peter so that they could find a way to get the Lost Boys back and escape. But Peter kept fighting her and she didn't understand why. "Stupid," she repeated, feeling her anger building at the insult. If Peter thought she was being stupid, then Peter could certainly do without her help then. She had other things to worry about. "May I be excused, Captain?" she asked, keeping her gaze locked with Peter's. "I think I've had all I can handle today."

"Or course, my dear…" Hook began.

"All _you_ can handle, Wendy?" Peter interrupted her tone incredulous. "Everyone has turned against me, Wendy. I was _dead_ this morning and now I stand here, in the same spot I died, arguing over a _stupid dress_ and _idiotic manners_! It doesn't matter! None of that matters! My godparents are searching for someone to replace me. And if any of the boys pass the test, Oberon is going to take the magic from me. It killed me today, so why shouldn't it kill me again? I'm going to _die_ Wendy, and you know what? I wish I'd stayed dead this morning."

"Mr. Starkey," Hook called, alarmed at Peter's words. It hadn't occurred to him that the fairy King would kill Peter again when they found her replacement. But those worries were for later; right now he needed to stop this from escalating further. Peter's voice had gone higher and her tears had increased while she was talking, and she was building toward what appeared to be a hysterical breakdown. Wendy, however, had gone a rather alarming shade of white and looked like she might fall off the stool at any moment. "Take Miss Wendy to my room and give her some water."

Starkey helped Wendy off the stool and led her across the deck. They passed close to Peter, but when Wendy reached for the other girl, Peter stepped away and turned her head. "Go with Mr. Starkey," Peter growled, "he's your new best friend. If you want to be so nice and friendly with the pirates, then you're a traitor."

Wendy snatched her hand back and turned away. Holding her head up high, she stormed towards Hook's cabin, Starkey trotting before her to open the door when she got there. Once they were inside, the door slammed shut.

"Well, Peter," Hook said, breaking the heavy silence on the deck. "I think you've managed to lose the last friend you had in Neverland." As soon as he said it, he knew it was the worst thing he could have said. And when Peter crumpled to the deck, sobbing, he didn't feel the slightest bit of satisfaction. _She's cracked under the strain. It's been a long day. I should have given her time to rest before I pressed her._ He sighed, all his anger now at himself. He'd never been able to stand against a weeping woman, and Peter was turning out to be no exception. He didn't blame the girl for crying; what she'd suffered through today was more traumatic than any child should have to go through. "Mr. Smee, can you estimate her measurements enough to make her a simple shift? And have it done tonight?"

"Aye, Cap'n, I believe I can," Smee answered. "I'll get started now."

Hook knelt beside Peter and took her arm. "Let's go back to your room, my dear," he said, pulling her to her feet.

"I'm not your 'dear'," Peter sobbed. "Leave me alone!" She swung her fist at Hook, intent on knocking the false concern off his face, but once again her body went numb. _I'm going to kill Oberon,_ she thought as she saw the deck rushing towards her face.

Hook caught her before she hit the deck and lifted her up in his arms. It surprised him to see her eyes were open and alert – he'd thought she'd fainted. Though she was awake and glaring at him, she lay passive in his arms. "Come, child. We'll fight when you've rested. A truce for now will do you a world of good."

Peter quit fighting the paralysis that had taken hold of her and made herself calm down. The moment she quit trying to lash out at Hook her body was restored to her and she found she could move. _He's made it so I can't fight Hook at all._ "Fine, Captain," she sighed, too tired to care anymore. "You can put me down now, I can walk."

Hook set her back on her feet and stood, holding his arm out for her to take. Peter put her arm around his without complaint and let him lead her below once more to the room she had learned to hate. Once they were in the room, Peter looked up at Hook again, a flush spreading across her face.

"Captain, can I please take this dress off? It's too tight and most of the buttons are gone anyway." She didn't really think her request would be granted, but it didn't hurt to ask. She wouldn't even have asked, but the topmost buttons were the ones that still held, and she couldn't reach those.

Hook considered her request for a moment. He didn't like the idea of her being naked on his ship, but he knew none of his men would try anything. Even if they did, Peter was certainly capable of defending herself. Besides, Peter had asked him civilly, and he was inclined to reward that behavior. It would make her see he could be reasonable if she was respectful, and hopefully encourage her to continue to act properly. "Very well," he answered and smiled at the astonished look she gave him. "I'll have someone bring you one of my shirts to wear; it'll fit you much as a dress would. Until then, keep the blanket around you. Someone will also bring you supper in an hour, and Smee should have your shift finished before bedtime."

Hook turned to leave then, but Peter caught his sleeve and tugged, making him pause. "I need you to unbutton it, Captain," she insisted, then turned around so he could reach.

Hook shook his head and stared at the claw on his arm. "You've asked the wrong person to do buttons, Peter," he chuckled. When the girl glanced over her shoulder to see what he was talking about, his smile widened at her chagrin. "Its fine, Pan," he continued, using his hook to pop the last two buttons off. When the back of her dress fell open, he frowned at the numerous bruises across her shoulder blades. Touching them lightly, he asked, "I apologize for this, Peter. I shouldn't have put my hand to you yesterday. Does it hurt?"

Peter stepped away from his touch, suppressing a shudder. "Only a little, and only when I'm trying to reach the back of this dress." She turned to face him, her hands holding the front of her dress to keep it from slipping off. "I don't care about that; you've hurt me worse before." She considered the grimace that crossed his face, realizing he really did regret harming her yesterday. She was tempted to thank him, but her pride kept her mouth from opening and making the words. It didn't matter how nice he was acting right now. He was still Captain Hook, and he had sworn to kill her. Why he wasn't trying to do so right now was a mystery to her, but she supposed it was because he wanted to torment her first. And if he was doing all of this to have fun at her expense, then she'd rot before she apologized or thanked him for anything.

They stood in silence for a few moments longer, each lost in their own silent contemplation of the other. Finally, Hook gave a nod and stepped back. "Until you've decided to play by my rules, Pan, you'll be confined to this room. All I ask is for you to behave properly, and you'll be given the freedom to roam the ship at will. I'm supposed to keep you until your godparents come back, and your time here doesn't have to be so unpleasant. But I will not tolerate your petulant rudeness, so you can stay out of my way until you decide to abide by my rules."

Peter smirked at Hook but held her tongue. She was tired of fighting, and just wanted the man to leave. She didn't care if she saw him or not, and would rather sit down here than bend to him up there. "Goodnight, Codfish," she said when the man made no move to leave on his own.

Hook nodded, not surprised at her stubbornness. That was another thing he was going to break her of, if she lived long enough. "Goodnight, Pan," he answered. He left, locking the door behind him and made his way to the cabin. Hopefully Starkey had Wendy calmed down again by now. She would be especially vulnerable after her nasty fight with Peter, and likely desperate for an understanding and compassionate ear. He intended to make her come to trust him, and now was the perfect opportunity to speak with her and convince her to help him civilize Pan – whether Peter wanted it or not.


	9. Keeping Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9

Chapter 9

True to his word, Smee was able to put a simple shift together for Peter that night. After the girl had finished her supper, the bosun gave it to her with more than a little trepidation, knowing he couldn't deal with her if she decided to fight him. "If ye'll try it on, lass, I'll make sure it fits ya right."

Peter looked at the garment and sighed. She was wearing one of Hook's shirts and, as distasteful as that was for her, it was surprisingly comfortable. The shirt was so large that it was like wearing a dress, but it didn't itch or restrict her like the yellow garment had. "Turn around, Mr. Smee, so I can change."

Nodding in relief, the bosun turned away. After a few minutes, Peter had managed to get the simple dress on and was relieved to find that there were no buttons to deal with. "It's a little tight," she muttered, pulling at the low bodice in an effort to stretch it out some.

Smee turned and went to work, checking the fit. "I'll let th' top out a bit. If ye'd just let me measure ya, I could make ya a nice dress that's comfortable-like." He didn't tell her that he could use this one as a pattern now for the other dress, now that he knew how it fit her. It would just upset her again and he knew better than to pick a fight with a woman.

Peter shook her head. "If I have this, I don't need another dress."

"Ah, lass," Smee chuckled, "yer th' first female I've met that's happy with only one dress. Go on an' take it off 'n I'll have it fixed proper fer ya."

Peter wiggled out of the dress and put Hook's shirt back on, grimacing. She was surprised to discover she was looking forward to Smee finishing the shift. _Anything is better than that other dress, and I can't stand smelling Hook on this shirt all the time._ It wasn't that the musky smell of the man stank – it was just a constant reminder of the hateful Captain. "Umm," Peter said softly as she handed the dress back to Smee, "thank you? For the dress… and being so nice…" The girl felt awkward thanking a pirate, but the bosun's genuinely polite manner and soft voice were a relief after Hook's false concern and mocking manipulations.

Smee beamed at her. "Yer welcome then, Miss Pan. I'll be finishing this fer ya tonight, and bring it to ya with breakfast in th' morn. I do wish ya'd let me measure ya. I've got such a lovely dress I could make fer ya."

Peter sat on her bed and shook her head. "That's what Hook wants, so I'll be hanged before I do it." She felt tired and sad, too overwhelmed by the day to keep up her defiant façade. It was getting hard to care anymore. "Can I ask you for a favor, Mr. Smee?"

mee blinked at the strangeness of Peter Pan asking for a favor, and doing it so nicely. "Can't help ya escape, lass. Cap'n wouldn't like that at all."

Peter considered if it was worth her time to play a prank on Smee and get the old man to row her ashore. _I'm too tired to think straight and he'd get in awful trouble with Hook._ "No, it's about the dress. Would you make me some shorts to wear under it? It's terribly drafty."

"Cap'n don't want ya wearin' short pants, lass."

"Surely if I wore the dress over them, it would be alright. I feel half naked with nothing on under the skirt."

Smee nodded. "I suppose ya need some undergarments. I'll see what I can do." He took his leave, and when Peter heard the door lock, she lay back on the bed and promptly went to sleep.

"Let go!" Peter shouted as she came awake to a pitch black room, trying to pull away from the arms that held her.

"Shh, Peter, it's just me," the soft voice murmured in her ear.

"Wendy?" Peter calmed, recognizing the voice of the one who lay next to her in the small bed.

"I'm sorry, Peter," Wendy whispered as she hugged her friend. "I'm so sorry I fought with you. I've been a terrible mother to you today. I should always stand beside you, and instead I sided with Hook."

Peter turned to face the girl in the darkness. "I'm sorry too, Wendy. I do want to do as you say, but I won't bend to Hook."

"I know, but can you at least pretend to get along?" Wendy asked. "Hook and I spoke at supper, and I'm sure he means us no harm right now. He thinks that when King Oberon finds a new Pan, you'll have to stay with him."

Peter ignored the sadness the reminder brought her and thought. "The old Pan before me left Neverland, but I don't know where he went. It doesn't matter though; they _will_ send me away when they don't need me anymore." Her voice caught as she remembered how furious her godfather had been. "Oberon hates me because I'm a girl. He probably _would_ let Hook have me and not care what he does to me. And that's if I survive him taking my magic away again."

Wendy held Peter tighter, afraid for the girl. "Please, Peter, don't keep Hook angry with you. Play along so we can escape. He won't watch as close if he thinks you've accepted this. And if you make him mad, he might hurt us. He's sworn as a gentleman to be good, if you'll do the same."

"I'll play nice, Wendy," Peter agreed, "but don't nag me if Hook asks me to do something I don't want to do. I will not bow to him."

"Do what you feel is right, Peter, but please don't forget that we're stuck here."

Peter smiled, trying to summon some hope out of the gloom that covered her, and gently kissed Wendy's forehead. "Remind me if I forget. But remember this: you're never stuck anywhere. There's always somewhere to run to, if you're willing to risk everything to get away."

"But where can you run, Peter?" Wendy asked. "Oberon said you couldn't go back to the island."

"I can go where I want," Peter answered defiantly, a flush of anger filling her. "I'm still the Pan, and Neverland won't deny me while I hold the power. We belong together, and nothing will keep me from her. At the first chance we get, Wendy, we're leaving."

"I love you, Peter. Please be careful."

Peter hugged the girl tighter. "I love you too, Wendy-mother," she murmured. "Please don't be angry at me anymore. I don't want to be alone here."

Wendy lightly ran her fingers through Peter's hair, knowing that would help relax the girl. "I can never stay mad at you, Peter. You've had a terrible day. Go back to sleep and rest. I'll watch over you." She began humming a lullaby and soon Peter lay curled up next to her, fast asleep.

 _If we can escape, Peter, then I'll help in any way possible,_ Wendy thought as she tried to quell her own anxieties and get some rest herself. _But Captain Hook is right. If you have to stay with him, then you must not keep antagonizing him. I have to keep the peace between you, to make sure you stay safe. I almost lost you today and I won't let that happen again! But you have to behave for once and not make him mad, not when there's no escape from him._

She had spoken with Hook, and the man seemed genuine when he expressed his regret for hurting Peter. He really wanted to help them and he had sworn that he would treat Peter as a lady – if she would act the part. Wendy knew that Hook would never harm a lady and that he held them in high regard. If Peter could learn to be a lady, then she'd be safe. But Hook and Wendy both agreed that Peter was proud and stubborn (traits that Wendy loved her for but Hook abhorred), and the more they tried to _make_ her behave, the more she'd try to fight. Hook had promised to leave Peter alone and not antagonize the girl, but he also demanded that if she and Wendy were going to enjoy his hospitality, then some kind of compensation was in order. Reluctantly, Wendy had agreed to help Cookson in the kitchen and do other 'motherly' duties for the pirates. But Peter would have to stay locked up if she couldn't promise not to anger the captain. Wendy knew Peter would hate being confined, but it was safer for the girl. There was no one to rescue them if she angered Hook, making him change his mind and decide to kill her.

"IF we can't escape," Wendy whispered, "then we have to make the best of our time here. I love you Peter and I'll do anything to keep you safe. When you've rested, you'll come around."

Hook stood beside the bed and watched the two girls sleep. This was his third time to come wake them this morning, but on each of his previous two visits he'd changed his mind, leaving them in peace after spending a few minutes watching them. An odd sense of pity kept staying his hand, and it was so rare that he could feel such an emotion that he was loath to banish it.

Peter lay curled up on her side, facing the wall with her hands fisted by her head. During his first visit, she had begun whimpering in her sleep, and he had been fascinated to see Wendy instinctively curl up against her, putting her arm around Peter's middle in a protective gesture without waking. Peter's soft moans subsided then and Hook had decided to let the troubled children rest awhile longer. That had been at daybreak, and his second visit had come two hours after that. The girls had still been deeply asleep, and he'd seen no reason to make them wake then either.

But now it was past midmorning and they needed to get up. Hook was fairly certain that Pan never slept this late; the brat made it a routine to visit him nearly every morning, early, to start the day off right (right for her… for Hook it was a guaranteed way to ruin the day before it had even gotten started). The fact that Pan still slept so soundly that she was oblivious to her enemy standing over her proved that the girl needed her rest. The ordeal of the previous day had obviously taken a lot out of her. He didn't want to awaken her, not really, but he knew that he should. So he stood, contemplating them in silence as he argued with himself.

But then Wendy yawned and stirred, rolling away from Peter to lie on her back. With a soft sigh she opened her eyes, giving a start when she focused on the man staring down at her. "Captain?" she whispered in alarm, glancing over to verify that Peter was safe.

"It's past breakfast, my dear," Hook answered softly. "Cookson is preparing something for you both, but I was hesitant to wake you."

"Why?" Peter mumbled, not bothering to open her eyes or move. She'd awakened at Wendy's voice, the word 'Captain' setting off an alarm that brought her speeding to awareness. But she was so tired and lethargic that she didn't want to move if she didn't have to.

Hook suppressed a sigh and gave Peter a wry smile. "I was hoping to go as long as possible without dealing with you." He didn't want to start a fight right now, but he had no desire to be honest. They had made such a picturesque scene, such a moving image of innocence, that Hook had been unwilling to dispel it. As he'd watched the two girls sleep, he'd been able to believe again in the purity of children, and he'd cherished it for as long as he could. He still wished to keep the memory strong, and if Peter would just refrain from opening her mouth, he'd be able to. "You had a hard day yesterday, Pan, and the day before. You should eat too, but if you wish to stay abed then that's fine."

Peter nodded, her eyes still closed. "Okay."

Wendy smiled in relief that there wouldn't be another fight. "I'll get up, Captain. Mr. Smee said he'd let me help with the dresses. I can mend tears and sew pockets, but I've never actually _made_ a dress before."

Hook offered her his hand and helped her from the bed. "I want both of you to do duty while you're here. Assisting Smee would be a good way to start."

Wendy smiled and nodded, hoping that Peter would see that it was better to have something to do aboard the ship than to remain locked below as a prisoner.

"I'd rather walk the plank," Peter mumbled, burrowing further under the blanket.

 _Don't keep tempting me,_ Hook thought. "Fine then. I've tried to be polite and considerate this morning, and I won't be goaded into an argument. If you won't be civil and you won't do duty, then you will stay here. Come, Wendy."

"Peter?" Wendy called, torn between her desire to learn dress-making and her loyalty to Peter. She didn't want her friend to think she was siding with Hook again.

"Go ahead," Peter mumbled, trying to go back to sleep. "I don't mind. Can I have another blanket?"

Hook pulled the blanket from the other bed and draped it over the girl. He tucked it around her, leaning close to her ear. "Sweet dreams, Pan," he whispered. Peter's eyes flew open in alarm and Hook chuckled to see her reaction. "If you need to use the head or if you change your mind about being difficult, call. Cookson and the men know to keep an ear out for you this time."

Peter nodded again, trying to maintain her calm. It wouldn't do to show Hook how much his proximity was bothering her. "Have fun, Wendy," she said instead, and closed her eyes, feigning indifference.

"Sleep well, Peter," Wendy answered. Together, she and Hook left the small room.

Peter gave a soft sigh of relief, happy now that Hook was gone. She was still so tired, and she just couldn't bear the thought of facing the day and having to deal with him. Burrowing further under the blankets, she soon lost herself once more to sleep.

Peter sat at the small table and poked at her lunch. She hadn't taken a bite in the half hour or so it had sat before her, and she wasn't likely to start eating it now. She hadn't taken more than a few bites of breakfast either, and had been so nauseous then that she'd nearly thrown it back up. She just wasn't hungry and the thought of eating anything made her sick.

She was so bored it was maddening, and her anxiety for her friends was getting worse. This was the third day since Oberon had turned her life upside down and there was still no word about her missing boys.

 _I wonder if I could get someone to take me to the head. No, Cookson will come get my bowl soon, and I'll get him to talk to me then._ All day yesterday, Peter had been alone. Wendy had spent the entire day doing chores, and hadn't been allowed to speak to her until late last night. By then, the girl had been too tired to do more than talk for a few minutes before she dropped off to sleep. Hook had come to collect her again early this morning, before Peter had awakened, and she hadn't come back since.

At first glance, it wasn't as bad as her first day here, when she'd been naked, chained, and alone in the dark and cold. Now there were candles and she was wearing her shift (which was surprisingly comfortable and rapidly changing her mind about dresses), and when she called, someone usually heard her and came to see what she needed. But on that first day, she'd had hope. She'd known that her friends would come for her, and she'd had enough faith in her own abilities to believe that she'd escape and everything would be okay. But now… now she knew no one was coming for her, and she'd be lucky to live through the ordeal her godparents were going to put her through.

But for now, she was bored with sitting in the silent room, with nothing to do but watch the candles burn. She'd even cut slits in one and counted the time it took the wax to melt from one mark to the next. Now she knew exactly how long each candle would last, and had saved herself from awakening to the dark this morning by changing candles before she went to bed. The only breaks in the monotony were the occasional visits by the pirates when they brought her food or took her to relieve herself.

But yesterday evening Mullins had warned her about calling too often, after he'd taken her to the head for the third time in an hour. Hook's orders were that if she began to call as an excuse to get out of her room, then they'd begin ignoring her and only check on her at meal times. Afraid of losing the only relief to her boredom, Peter began restraining herself and only called when the silence became too oppressive. But there was nothing else to do but sleep and think.

There was a rattle at the door and Cookson entered, smiling. "Hello, Miz Pan! You like lunch, yeah?"

Peter shrugged and pushed the bowl away. "I'm done, Mr. Cookson."

The cook looked in the bowl and frowned, turning to face the girl again. "You no like? Iz my food not good? You not eat breakfazt neither."

"I'm not hungry," Peter answered. "Have you seen Wendy? Is she okay?"

Cookson shook his head as he gathered the untouched dishes. "Miz Wendy bizzy on deck. She not help Cookson sinze breakfazt dishez. You need to go to head?"

Peter considered it, the temptation to get out of this hateful room strong even if it was only to go to the foul-smelling room. But what would she have to do an hour from now if she went now? Besides, she really didn't need to go, and didn't want to have to hold it later. "No, thank you. Can I have some more water though? And my candles are getting low."

Cookson's jaw dropped at the thank-you, and his frown deepened at the listless tone of her voice. Mullins had mentioned that the girl wasn't looking so well today, and the cook had to agree. "I'll haf someone bring vater and candlez. If you gets hungry, I bring food again."

"Thank you," Peter answered, not really paying attention. She was thinking, remembering when she'd first come to Neverland. She recalled how happy she'd been, the feeling a lot like being warm after a year of bitter coldness. She'd been so afraid in those days that Oberon and Gloriana would change their minds and make her leave (she didn't remember why she thought they might, just that it had been a fear). But they'd sworn to love and cherish her always. They'd given her Neverland and given her a family, calling her their godson. It had been a fairy-tale dream come true.

 _But they lied. They hate me and they don't want me anymore._ A silent tear fell from her eye and she didn't bother wiping it away. She only vaguely registered the door lock when Cookson left. After awhile she rose and changed clothes, pulling Hook's shirt on before climbing into the bed. She wasn't tired, but there wasn't anything else to do. So she lay in the bed, staring up at the hole in the ceiling.

She'd had a brief hope yesterday that she could use it to escape, since it led into an empty cabin above hers. But that hope had been quickly dashed. She couldn't fly up to it, and the only pieces of furniture in the room that weren't bolted down were the two chairs. They couldn't be stacked high enough for her to stand on them and reach.

So instead she thought, trying desperately to understand why this had happened. Why didn't she remember she was a girl? Why had she hidden her gender, as Tink had claimed? Why did it matter? Without Wendy to talk to or Hook to fight with, Peter spent her time dwelling on her few scattered memories, looking for answers and finding only heartache.


	10. Betrayals of Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 _*Why did you lie?*_

"I don't know. I don't remember lying."

 _*How long did Tinker_   
_Bell_   
_keep your secret?*_

"I don't know _,"_ she repeated listlessly, staring blankly at the bowl of soup before her. The tingle in her body intensified, but she didn't notice. The magic around her neck was insidious, beginning its prodding in her dreams, gently breaking into her mind by questioning her softly in a voice she had trusted once.

 _*What is your first memory?*_ Oberon asked softly in her mind.

"Playing tag with the birds in Kensington Gardens," Peter answered and the memory came forth, as real as if she were living it again.

 _He was in the park, laughing in delight as he caught a fat pigeon. It squawked in annoyance and he tossed it into the air, running from the new 'It'. The pigeon swooped down onto a hapless sparrow and tagged him._

 _"I'm coming for you, Peter!" the sparrow chirped, and Peter ran, shouting good-natured insults._

Oberon watched Peter's memory, noting that the bird had called her Peter and that in the memory she'd been wearing boy's clothing. * _So even then you were lying. Do you remember when you met Tinker_ _Bell_ _?_ *

"Yes," Peter answered.

 _He stepped into the clearing around the old oak tree. This was the place the fairies came to dance when the moon was new. The birds had always told him not to come here at night, but sometimes when the nightmares kept him awake he'd come and watch the fairies play. It was night now, and Peter shivered in the cool air, the magic a palpable presence here. An owl hooted softly and Peter looked up to see Solomon staring down at him._

 _"I'm here, Old Bird," Peter said as he began to climb the tree. He settled onto a thick lower branch, turning to see the white owl. "Whatcha want?"_

 _"One of the fairies has asked to meet you," Solomon said. He pointed with a wingtip and Peter turned to see a small, child-like fairy girl float towards him._

 _"Hello, Peter," the girl chimed, "I'm Tinker_   
_Bell_   
_."_

 _Peter smiled, delighted to actually be talking to a fairy again after so long. "Nice to meet you, Tinker_   
_Bell_   
_._   
_Are you from Neverland?"_

 _"You know of Neverland?" Tink asked, surprised._

 _"I remember playing with fairies a long time ago, and they told me about Neverland. One day I stopped seeing them, and until I came here I thought they were just make-believe. But I still dream about Neverland, and Solomon tells me stories about it."_

 _Tink_   
_looked at Solomon for a long moment, then turned her attention back to Peter. "Would you like to visit Neverland? My King and Queen are looking for a little boy just like you, and if you're the one, you can come live with us."_

 _Peter grinned and stood on the branch, so excited he thought he'd burst. "That would be great! Does it get cold in Neverland? I hate the cold. The birds keep me warm_ _but it's awfully smelly, and they're going to be flying south soon. How do we get to Neverland? Is it far? Who are the king and queen? Should I take a bath first?"_

 _Tinker_   
_Bell_   
_laughed and tossed a handful of dust on the boy. "King Oberon and Queen Gloriana will simply love you," she answered. "Now, as to how we get there, we fly…"_

 _*When did she learn the truth?*_ the voice pressed, but Peter began to resist, focusing on what Tink had said.

"King Oberon and Queen Gloriana will simply love you," she whispered and her memory shifted yet again.

 _The palace was simply unbelievable, and even after being here for weeks, it still took Peter's breath away. And now it was even more fantastic, decorated as it was by fairy lights and banners for the dual ceremony: the Release of the old Pan and the Fostering of the new. The ceremony itself had been horribly formal and filled with strange ritual, but when Peter had received the Gift from Cory (whom he liked immensely and would miss), it was suddenly as if he was looking at everyone with new eyes. And the ceremony had meant so much more then too, because he began to understand what was happening._

 _He'd vowed to defend Neverland, to participate in the special ceremonies, to live there until a new Pan was found to replace him, and to be a loyal, devoted godson to the King and Queen. They had vowed to protect and cherish their godson, to entrust him with Neverland's power, to love him always and to let him go when he grew weary of childish games. While the ceremony itself had been tiresome, the wild party afterwards had been spectacular. Before Peter could become overwhelmed by the music, wine, and writhing bodies of the dancing fey, Oberon and Gloriana took him aside to tell Cory goodbye._

 _As they watched the young man fly away, guided by his fairy, Oberon had turned to look down at his new godson. He'd had tears in his eyes, missing Cory already, but he'd smiled at Peter and knelt before him, pulling him into his embrace._

 _"You'll stay with us for a long, long time, won't you Peter? I hate letting you silly mortals go. Stay with us and we'll love you always."_

 _It was then, for the first time in ages, that Peter had truly felt happy and safe. With them, he was wanted and loved. But after that initial burst of joy, fear returned._

"You promised to love me," she whispered, "but I was scared. I didn't know it mattered if I was a boy or girl, not at first. I would have told you then, once I felt safe… but I was scared you'd send me away. I just wanted someone to love me."

 _*Peter*,_ the voice called and she recognized it now as Oberon's. Fear filled her as the vivid memory came of the last time she'd seen her Godfather. She remembered his anger and her own confusion. Pain overwhelmed her mind as she relieved Oberon's rough treatment, and she screamed.

 _*Peter, calm down! It's just a memory…* but_ the magic spun out of control, Peter's terror and her magic taking command. She continued to scream, lost in the throes of the memory and deaf to Oberon's attempts to soothe her. * _Glory, end it! I can't bring her out of the spell!*_

Then the voice was abruptly gone, and the throbbing of the magic through her body went with it. The memory faded just as quickly, leaving Peter gasping as she frantically tried to reorient herself. There were hands holding her arms, gently but firmly, and concerned brown eyes stared at her intently.

"Peter, calm down," the voice, a different voice, said to her.

"Mr. Mullins?" she sobbed when she recognized the man kneeling before her.

"What in the name of Davey Jones is going on down here?" Hook bellowed, striding into the small room.

Mullins looked up at Hook. "I came in ta check on her, she's been too quiet. She was talkin' to herself and starin' off. Then she started screamin'. Soon as I touched 'er, I felt somethin' odd. Weird hummin feelin' in my bones… magic. That collar's doin' stuff to 'er." The man stood and glared up at his captain. "Me an' Cookson told you she weren't actin' right, not eatin' and stuff. But you insisted she was just sulkin'. She don't look like she's sulkin' now!"

"Watch your tone with me, Robert, or I'll remove that insolent tongue from your head," Hook retorted, his eyes blazing with annoyance and anger.

"All due respect, Cap'n," Mullins pressed on, his own hackles up, "But if yer gonna put me in charge of a kid, don't get upset when I take my duty seriously."

Peter watched disinterestedly as Hook and Mullins began arguing. She was tired of being down here, tired of her Godparents, tired of it _all,_ and she wasn't going to just sit down here and take any of it anymore. Very quietly, she crept to the door Hook had left open and made her way unnoticed to the deck. The raised voices of the two men in her cabin could still be heard when she stepped into the morning sunlight, but Peter didn't care. If they were still arguing, then they hadn't noticed yet that she was gone.

She took a moment to breathe in the fresh air and let the sunlight warm her, but no more than a moment. Smee and Starkey were on deck, but neither man had yet looked up from their tasks to notice her. Peter saw Wendy sitting near the bow, sewing on a blue and white piece of cloth. Keeping an eye on the preoccupied pirates, Peter went to the girl, holding her finger over her lips when she looked up in surprise. She took Wendy's hand and pulled her to her feet, then led her to the railing where several boxes hid them from sight.

"Morning, Wendy," Peter said, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," the girl whispered happily. "Are you feeling well?"

Peter waved her hand dismissively. She was feeling a lot better now that she was outside, the sun and fresh air revitalizing her spirits and banishing the last vestiges of the memories. _And I snuck out from under Codfish's nose!_ That knowledge filled her with the pride and confidence she'd felt slipping away from herself these past days. "I'm fine, glad to be back outside. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to go home. Feel like a swim?"

Wendy grinned, relieved. She'd only seen Peter late at night and early in the morning lately, and she'd been too tired to talk much. And Peter had become so listless, it had been difficult to hold much conversation with her even then. "I'd love to go home Peter. Captain Hook's been a perfect gentleman, but he wouldn't let me visit you. Let's go and find our boys."

Peter nodded and together both girls climbed over the railing. Holding hands and each taking a deep breath, they leapt from the ship into the cold water below.

"So in conclusion," Hook snarled, pressing the tip of his sword to Mullins's gut, forcing the man to squeeze even further into the corner, "Pan stays here by my own mercy, and I'll not pander to her sulking or her tantrums, as you are so eager to do. You will continue to tend her and you will not question my methods again! Do I make myself clear?"

"Aye, Cap'n," Mullins answered, his voice shaky and faint. His cheek below his right eye was swelling and red from Hook's fist, and if he was lucky it would be the only punishment he'd get for talking back to the captain. If he was very lucky.

Hook's eyes narrowed as he contemplated what discipline he should give the man, to teach him a lesson he'd not soon forget. His thoughts were interrupted by the wild clanging of the ship's bell. Smee's shouts could be heard, but neither man could make out what he was saying. Hook whirled about and saw that his 'guest' was absent, doubtless having slipped out of the ajar door.

"Pan!" he growled, knowing that the troublesome brat had to be behind this disturbance. "Female or not, I'll beat her if she's caused mischief!" He raced to the deck, Mullins right behind him.

"Women overboard!" Smee was shouting, ringing the bell for all he was worth. Mason, Cookson and Starkey were busily preparing the longboat for launch, anticipating that their captain would want to give chase.

"Belay that, Smee!" Hook yelled. "Where's Pan?"

"Th' lasses have jumped ship, Cap'n, an' are swimmin' ta th' shore," Smee stammered.

Hook looked towards the island and saw the two girls swimming away from the ship. They'd be long gone by the time Hook could get there in the longboat, but that wasn't going to stop him from pursuing them. He'd chase them down on the land until he had Pan back in his grip, and nothing was going to stop him. "Both of you are going to pay dearly for this betrayal of my trust. Especially you, Wendy Darling."

As soon as the two girls hit the water, they began swimming as fast as they could towards the shore. They could hear the men on the deck shouting after them, the large splash having alerted the crew that the 'guests' were escaping. A few seconds later, the ship's bell began tolling.

"Hurry, Peter," Wendy gasped, but she knew that her urging was unnecessary. Peter was the better swimmer, and Wendy knew that once the pirates got to their longboat, _she_ was the one most likely to be captured.

Peter swam, but held back so that she could stay close to Wendy in case the girl needed her help. It wouldn't do any good to reach the shore if Wendy was recaptured. Peter wouldn't abandon her to Hook. After a seeming eternity, the girls were close enough to shore to put their feet down and wade the rest of the way. Peter took Wendy's hand again and glanced back. When she saw that Hook and his men were still far out, she grinned and winked at the other girl.

"We made it!" she giggled, "Let's go home." But as they stepped out of the water onto dry land, a strange tingling began beneath the collar around her neck. The tingling quickly spread down through her body, all the way to her fingers and toes. Peter ignored the sensation and continued walking. After two more steps, the tingling abruptly intensified, becoming a painful burning that enveloped her. She stumbled, gasping in shock.

Peter heard Wendy calling, heard the concern in her voice, but she found to her horror that she couldn't move or speak. The burning flared one more time, and then became a faint tingling again. She felt herself fall, saw the sand approach as she collapsed onto it, heard Wendy's cry… but her body refused to respond. She felt the sand against her cheek, could taste the briny grit where some had seeped into her mouth, but the only response she could make was to blink. Small hands grabbed her, rolling her onto her back. Wendy was above her, looking down at her in wide-eyed fear.

 _What's wrong with me?_ she thought in fear, trying to speak though not a sound escaped her lips.

 _*You are forbidden the island, Peter,*_ Gloriana's voice spoke to her. * _Until you can remember and explain to us why you lied, we cannot trust you there any longer. You still hold the Gift, but you cannot use it.*_

"Peter?" Wendy called, seeing the girl's eyes were open and focused. She glanced towards the water and saw the longboat was a lot closer. Hook was standing in the boat, glaring at her. "Peter, get up! The pirates are closer and Hook looks furious!" When her words failed to provoke a response, Wendy felt her fear blossom into terror. _She's hurt, she must be hurt! I have to get her away!_ She put her arms around Peter and lifted her up, intent on dragging her friend to safety. But when she began to pull, a shock went through her, knocking her down. Wendy lay still a moment, and then sat up shakily. Peter lay in a heap where she'd dropped her, and Hook was frighteningly close.

"PETER!" Wendy screamed, crawling back to the girl. She put her hand on Peter again, but drew back when a warning shock went through her. Realizing she couldn't get Peter away in time and unwilling to leave her behind, Wendy sat next to her friend and waited patiently for Hook to catch up with them. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she took a deep breath and tried to fight away the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. "I'm here, Peter," she told the girl, "I won't leave you, and I won't let Hook hurt you."

When Peter heard Wendy's warning that Hook was near, her fear increased tenfold. _Please, let me go! He'll kill us!_

 _*He cannot kill you, Peter, the collar protects you as well as restrains you.*_

 _But Wendy…_ Peter thought, her worry more for the other girl than for herself.

 _*I need your friend. For your sake we left her with you, but if the Captain seeks to harm her, I will take her. Your Lost Boys are not cooperating, and I need her to make them behave.*_

 _Keep her safe… please don't hurt her. I didn't know you hated girls._

 _*We don't hate girls, Peter…*_

 _But you don't want me anymore, just because I'm a girl! You HURT me when you found out!_

A featherlike touch crossed her brow, almost like a ghostly hand trying to comfort her. * _We didn't mean to hurt you. Oberon didn't realize what would happen. We've never forcibly taken the gift from a Pan, and a Pan has never surrendered it when they were as young as you.*_

At the mention of Oberon, anger filled the paralyzed girl. _I'm not so young anymore. He_ killed _me! And you lied to me to trick me into coming back. Why didn't you let me go on? They were calling me! People that_ really _loved me were calling me and you made me come back! I_ hate you _!_

 _*You're upset, Peter*_ Gloriana soothed, * _You_ _don't mean that.*_ But a tremor belied her tone. The fairy queen felt Peter's sense of betrayal, her fear and anger at her godparents, and her mounting distrust of them. Those feelings, if left to fester, could very well turn to hate. And if Peter came to hate them and refused in the end to relinquish the gift, they _would_ have to kill her in order to reclaim it. And the girl's murder would taint the gift and Neverland itself.

Peter heard Hook's voice and Wendy's fearful answer. Blind panic consumed her, her fear at being trapped and helpless while her enemy approached overriding her senses. Her instincts screamed at her to flee, and when she couldn't they demanded she fight. And when even that basic response was denied her, terror broke her mind.

 _HELP ME!_ She screamed to her godmother, and images broke forth, overwhelming them both: a man beating her into unconsciousness, a little boy crying for his dead mother, an older boy with red hair smiling as even redder blood poured from his mouth, shock at seeing an arrow protruding from her chest and looking up to see an Indian boy with a bow staring at her in horror. Faster than she could catch, the images flashed, wracking her with images she only knew in her nightmares. She screamed again and in the chaos, Gloriana screamed with her.

As suddenly as they came, the memories faded and she was free. She flailed out with newly animate limbs, disoriented and shaken by the experience. She heard a male voice, was aware of a dark shape above her, and she cowered in fear, pulling her arms up to shield her face while trying to curl into a ball. But instead of hitting her, the man's hand stroked her hair while he continued to speak to her, his soothing tones and gentle rhythm calming her frazzled mind. Whimpering softly, she let herself relax into the strong embrace and soon fell into an exhausted sleep. Mercifully, she did not dream.

Hook stood silent in the longboat, his glare affixed firmly upon the two girls on the shore. Peter had collapsed and Wendy was frantically trying to pull the girl to her feet. Hook didn't know what was going on, nor did he care at the moment. All he cared about was recapturing his prey and making them both exceptionally sorry for this little stunt.

"If you men don't get me there before the brats escape," he growled lowly, "God himself will weep at the atrocities I will commit upon your persons." To his momentary satisfaction, the pace increased as the pirates fearfully threw themselves against the oars.

By the time Hook set foot upon the shore, Wendy had stopped trying to get away and now sat quietly on the sand awaiting him. Hook saw Peter lying on her back, her eyes staring vacantly up at the sky, and he was suddenly struck by the memory of her brief death only a few days earlier. He quickened his pace and stood over the two girls. "What's happened?" he barked.

Wendy looked up at Hook, her eyes red from weeping. "She's hurt," she answered, "She won't move! Please help her, Captain, please don't let Peter die again!"

"Mason! Take custody of that wench," Hook snapped as he knelt beside Peter. Wendy wailed and tried to fight off the large pirate, but Hook ignored her and dismissed her from his mind. She wouldn't escape Mason, so he didn't concern himself further with her. "Peter?" he called, touching the girl's throat in search of a pulse. He saw her eyes blink even as he found her heartbeat, and in the next instant he knew something was wrong. Her heart was racing, her respiration frantic. Her eyes began to roll wildly, reminding him of a horse crazed with terror. But she didn't move and her muscles were as lax as though she were sleeping.

 _She must be hurt. How? The fall from the ship? Perhaps some sea creature bit her, something poisonous._ "Smee!" Hook called, "Help me get her clothes off. I need to see if she's wounded."

Mason and the other men stepped back as the captain and the bosun began undressing the girl. Wendy struggled in the carpenter's arms, trying to get back to Peter to reassure herself that she was alright. "Get still," Mason growled as he gripped her harder, "its better fer ya if the Cap'n forgets about ya for a bit. He's mighty upset right now." Wendy fought for a few moments more, but when Mason's iron grip became painful she stilled.

Smee had Peter out of her wet shift in a matter of seconds. Hook ignored the tears streaming from the girl's eyes and quickly made a check of her body, dismissing her older bruises and scars in his search for a bite, a cut, some kind of swelling or other injury that could account for her state. He could feel a strange thrumming whenever he touched her skin, but he ignored it. When he'd examined her twice and Smee concurred that she looked unharmed, Hook draped his cloak over her and lifted her into his arms. Peter's eyes squeezed shut, her breathing quickening to shallow gasps, but still she lay limp in his arms. When he had his prisoner in hand once more, Hook turned to glare at Wendy.

"What happened to her?" he growled.

"I don't know," Wendy replied, trying to look unafraid. "We made it to shore and Peter was fine, but then she just stopped and fell. She looked at me, but she couldn't speak or move." Wendy turned her gaze to her friend. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know," Hook snapped, stepping closer. Wendy tried to shrink back, but Mason's bulk kept her from retreating. "I placed much trust in you, Miss Darling, and I am _beyond_ disappointed. I offered to let the two of you remain aboard my ship, unharmed and cared for. In return, you were to work for me, obey my commands, and help me convince Pan to accept the role and responsibilities of being female. I kept up _my_ end; I trusted you enough that you went about my ship unfettered. And yet you betrayed me by jumping ship with Pan."

"We just wanted to go home," Wendy replied, staring up at the scowling man. "You keep Peter locked up all alone, and I can't see her until its late and I'm too tired to visit…"

"No excuses!" Hook yelled, raising his hand as if to strike the girl. Wendy's eyes widened in fear and she braced for the blow, but the Captain stayed his hand. He shook with fury, but he kept firm control of himself. He took a deep breath and lowered his hand. "You were homesick, and that I can understand. Release her, Mr. Mason."

Wendy sighed in relief when the large hands let her go, and she straightened her dress while she calmed down. "Please, Captain, we have to help Peter."

"We?" Hook sneered, turning away from her to face his men. "Back to the ship!" He carried Peter to the longboat, settled onto the bench in the aft and arranged the girl comfortably in his lap. The other pirates clambered aboard and took their places at the oars. Wendy watched uncertainly before taking a few quick steps towards the boat.

"Not you, Miss Darling." Hook called when he saw her approach. "You wished to go home, so I'm granting that wish. Go home, go to the Indians, go to Hell for all I care. But you're not welcome aboard my ship, and if you return I will have you tossed overboard as a stowaway."

Wendy paled. "But…Peter! I have to take care of Peter! Please Captain!"

"Shove off, men," Hook ordered, ignoring the girl. He watched impassively while, as his men rowed away, Wendy tried to wade out to the boat. He listened calmly as she began to cry, pleading with him to not separate her from Peter. When she fell upon the shore again, sobbing hysterically, he felt himself soften and for a moment he nearly relented. But then the girl in his arms gave a strangled scream and, like a dam breaking, she began thrashing in his arms. All thoughts of Wendy immediately fled his mind as he turned to deal with his prisoner.

Reflexively, Hook tightened his hold, trying to keep Peter from falling into the bottom of the boat. "Pan," he called, his voice stern with displeasure. He expected her to try to get away, to leap from the boat and swim back to Wendy. But at the sound of his voice, Peter wailed and curled up, as if seeking to hide. Hook frowned at the strange reaction, but he altered his response accordingly. Nothing about Peter Pan in the past few days had been normal. Instead of the harsh scolding and possible punishment he was about to give her, he held her closer and began speaking in soothing tones, running his hand through her hair.

"Calm down, child. You're safe. I won't hurt you. Wendy's safe too, she escaped. Calm down," he kept his words simple, often repeating himself, and after a few minutes Peter finally relaxed. Her cries became soft moans and whimpers and she clutched at his coat as she lay against him. The captain shifted her so that her head lay against his chest, cradling her close as he continued to murmur softly to her. Not long after that she slipped into sleep.

"Goin' soft on th' lass, Cap'n?" Mason grunted as he pulled at the oar. The other men remained silent, but when Hook looked up he saw that they all were staring at him in amazement.

"Of course not, imbecile!" Hook snapped. "I have a much more entertaining way to destroy Pan in mind, and part of my plan requires that this girl come to trust me."

"Peter Pan, trust James Hook?" Starkey gasped.

Hook nodded and looked down again at the girl's sleeping face. It was strange to view those hated features from this unfamiliar perspective. One moment she was Pan and he could barely suppress the urge to break her neck. A moment later and she was just a little girl, one that was being mistreated by her foster parents, and he felt an overwhelming desire to comfort and protect her. He knew his two desires would have to compromise, and if Peter would behave for once in her life then he'd be able to be gentler with her.

"I hate Pan, but not for what she did to me. I hate her arrogance, her willful disrespect and cockiness." He brushed some stray grains of sand from her face and smiled when she gave a soft sigh and pressed her cheek against his hand. "But she's got the wind knocked from her sails right now. Neverland's turned against her, her friends are gone, and she has nowhere to go. But _I'll_ be here for her. I'll care for her and offer her the compassion no one else will show her. She may never completely trust me – I doubt that after her godfather that she'd ever truly trust _anyone_ – but she'll trust me enough. And she'll obey me and be respectful, as a proper young woman should."

Hook looked up again to see that Starkey was nodding in understating. Mason, as usual, looked confused, while Mullins merely scowled. Smee was just oblivious. "In the meantime, I'm sure she's going to fight me and mouth off. Don't let me kill her in a fit of rage, or I'll do worse to you when I've calmed down."

"Aye, Cap'n," the men chorused. A few minutes later and they were alongside the ship and Cookson was lowering the docking lines to help the crew put the longboat back into its berth and board the _Roger_.


	11. Deal with the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Peter's latest lapse of consciousness didn't last very long, but awakening from it was a slower-than-normal process. She became aware when she was jostled by Mason, who took her from Hook as the captain disembarked from the longboat. But though she was aware, she had no idea really of what was going on or even where she was. She heard men's voices, smelled the ship smells of salt and pitch, felt the large arms holding her, but she really didn't care. She was tired and sick at heart, and it was so nice to just not care.

She was jostled again, and after a moment she realized she had been handed off to someone else. Lethargically, she began to wonder who held her. A strong arm beneath her rump supported her weight, holding her close to a large chest with her cheek resting against a shoulder. She breathed and smelled a familiar scent, one that brought the first stirrings of alarm. Peter opened her eyes to see the man's white curls and realized where she was. _Wendy! He's got me!_

Hook felt the girl tense up and knew she was going to fight. He barely had time to wrap his other arm around her before she began wriggling, trying to kick and push away. She was hindered by the cloak that cocooned her, rendering her unable to use her arms very well, but she tried to get free anyway. "Get still, Pan," the man growled. "You've tried my patience, and you really don't want me to hurt you right now."

"Go ahead and hurt me," Peter snapped bitterly. "I don't care! Just put me down."

Hook shook his head. "You're not properly dressed, Pan. If I'm carrying you, it's less likely the cloak will fall open and expose you." _And I don't trust you not to bolt again._

"Where's my dress?" Peter asked, becoming aware that the fabric around her was too heavy to be her shift.

"We thought you'd been injured. Smee removed it so we could check," Hook explained.

Peter was quiet, too embarrassed at first to speak. But she did quit struggling. "I really don't like that you've seen me naked so much. I thought you were a gentleman."

Hook growled in irritation, but he didn't answer. Instead, he began carrying her back to her cabin. Peter quickly realized where they were going, and felt a rush of panic.

"I don't want to go back to that awful room," she told him, her voice petulant.

"Trust me, Pan, it's the safest place for you right now," Hook growled without missing a step. "I really don't want to harm you, but you have a habit of goading me. Right now I could easily strangle you to death, and I'm tempted sorely to do it. Once I put you away, the urge to hurt you will pass – I think, though, I'll have to chain you again."

 _Fine, I'll just figure out how to escape again…_ but then she remembered what had happened to her on the shore, and why. Peter turned her head, trying to look around. "Where's Wendy?"

"On the island," Hook snapped. "The little wench broke her promise, so when I caught you I left her behind."

"What promise? What did you do to her?"

Hook opened the cabin door and strode inside, slamming it shut behind him. "I did nothing to her; she's unharmed and free to go about her business." Hook dropped Peter on the bed and tossed her the old shirt she'd been using as a nightgown. "She promised to help me teach you how to be a proper lady and to do duty. In exchange, she received room and board for the both of you, and my assurance that neither of you would be mistreated by me or my crew. She needn't have made the deal, I was going to do all of that anyway, but it helped me keep her obedient and gave her something to do, which made her feel better anyway. But by helping you jump ship, she violated what trust I'd placed in her. If I can't trust her, then I neither want nor need her."

Peter frowned at the man, but she felt immense relief that Wendy was gone. As much as she wanted the girl's company and comfort, she didn't want to have to worry about Hook using her friend against her. And she didn't want to fight with Wendy anymore over manners and proper behavior. "Why are you _really_ so interested in making me act like a lady?"

Hook sat in a chair, propping his feet on the table as he grinned at her. "For you to act like a proper young woman, you would have to become the antithesis of everything you were as the boy Peter Pan. You are willful, cocky, disrespectful, filthy, crude, and completely useless. As a proper young woman, you will be modest, obedient, quiet, patient, graceful, and helpful. When I'm done with you, Peter Pan will be gone forever, and in his place will be a lovely young lady, a flawless diamond that I have cut and polished to perfection."

Peter laughed, the sound a snort of derision that grew into hysterical gales. "Flawless…" she cackled, "lady… obedient? Oh, Codfish, you're certainly full of yourself!"

Hook flushed scarlet, his rage boiling inside. "Get dressed and give me my cloak, Pan," he spat, "or I'll leave you naked and chained down here again."

Peter sobered instantly, the apprehensive expression on her face giving the man some satisfaction. She stood, clutching the cloak tightly around her. "Turn around, Captain."

"I think I'll keep my eye on you till we've got you properly caged again. I committed a grievous error, Pan," he said, smiling. "I let myself underestimate you. I keep relaxing my guard because you're a girl, something I swore not to do. You won't escape me again, boy _or_ girl. Now get dressed."

Peter glared at Hook, trying to decide if she should admit a weakness to him. She couldn't escape, Gloriana had shown her that plainly enough, and the thought of telling Hook that was galling. But if he believed her, then she might be able to convince him to not keep her chained up again. As she opened her mouth to speak, tears welled up in her eyes once more and she felt her face flush with shame. _I will_ not _cry in front of him anymore!_ "Where will I go, Captain?" she asked quietly, the cold calm of her voice a dead contrast to the pain and grief in her heart. "I can't fly away, and if I swim ashore again, this damned collar will just paralyze me. It left me lying there like a nice little present for you, didn't it? I bet you thought it was awfully funny, seeing me lying helpless at your feet!"

 _So that's what happened to you,_ Hook thought, realizing by the heat in her face and the shine in her eyes that she was telling the truth. He'd known she was banished from the island, but he hadn't realized such extreme measures had been taken to enforce her exile. This made things a lot easier for him - and much more interesting in that it gave him extra leverage in dealing with her. His face remained impassive as he turned over this information in his mind. _There's literally no place she can go. My ship is her cage, and I don't have to do anything to keep her here. If those pixies were_ my _so-called godparents and they did this to me, I'd take a fly-swatter to them at the first opportunity!_

"You'd do well to remember that little lesson, Pan," he said at last, playing along as if this were no surprise. "You knew they'd banished you, what did you think would happen when you defied them?" He smiled and sat up, leaning forward in his seat. "And what will happen when they replace you? Let's assume you'll survive the ordeal - they were upset when it killed you last time, I doubt they'll let you die a second time if they can help it. Where will you go? Once they don't need you, do you think they'll let you remain in Neverland?"

Peter once more considered her future, ignoring the heartache it brought her. But she didn't have to consider long: she'd been thinking about the possibilities over the last few days, which was why she'd become so depressed. "They'll likely send me back to Kensington Gardens. I lived there once, so I suppose I can do it again. I'm remembering more of that time and the time before, but it's hard to keep the memories."

"Were you pretending to be a boy when you lived there?"

Peter nodded, remembering what she'd seen when Oberon had been poking around in her mind. "I'm sure I knew I was a girl then, I hadn't forgotten yet. I was pretending that I was a boy. But I don't know why."

"Get dressed and we'll discuss your rather limited options, girl," Hook answered, his voice calm and serious. Peter turned away and let the cloak drop, and Hook watched as she quickly pulled the large shirt over her head. Once clothed, she took the other chair and faced him across the table, a light blush clinging to her cheeks.

"I got a good enough look at you on the shore, Miss Pan," Hook told her gently, "to know that you've changed a great deal. It will be much more difficult for you to hide those changes and pass as a boy again, but it can be done." He kept his voice calm, speaking to her as a confidant would. She was alone now and had no one she could trust, and he wanted to garner that trust in her. "You are going through a change called puberty, which all children must pass through to become adults, and there are many other changes your body will make. If you go back to London, you might be able to hide your gender. I've seen grown women pull it off quite well and pass as pirates on ships. But it requires constant vigilance, and they've always been found out in the end."

"I don't have to hide, I can go back as a girl," Peter objected, but Hook interrupted her.

"Odds, bobs, girl, NO!" he said fiercely, a genuine look of concern in his eyes. And it _was_ concern, he knew what city streets could be like, and he'd seen what creatures inhabited them. "You look to be twelve or thirteen now. A girl your age, homeless, friendless, begging on the streets? Girls like you become prostitutes, by choice or otherwise, and it's likely someone will rape and murder you within a year! Most men you'd encounter on the streets of London are _much_ worse that I am. As much as I've hated you, I'd never rape you or tolerate any of my crew doing it. The _last_ thing you should do is go back there as a girl!"

The urgency in the man's voice and his rare sincerity made Peter take his words very seriously. She knew the word 'rape', and it conjured images that made her nauseous. "I'd rather die," she whispered as she hugged herself. "Look's like I'm dead no matter what. If Oberon doesn't kill me, he'll send me to the real world to let the humans do it. I should just kill myself right now and get it over with. It'll serve those bugs right if I took Neverland away from them!" Imagining the looks on her godparents' faces as Neverland faded around them, contemplating how much they'd miss her when she was gone and the guilt they'd surely feel, all these thoughts gave her a perverse, bittersweet sense of pleasure. But she knew suicide wasn't an option. It was contrary to her nature to just give up and take the cowardly way out. No, she'd face her fate and make the best out of it. She was nothing if not adaptable, that being the very trait that had made her Cory Pan's heir.

Hook knelt before the girl, offering her his kerchief. Peter took it hesitantly, surprised by the traitor tears that had leaked from her eyes despite her efforts. "You have another option. As distasteful as it may be for you, surely you'd prefer it to death." He smiled at the interested, mildly desperate look Peter fixed on him. "When they've finished using you and cast you aside, let me take you away from here. You're godfather has already offered to give you to me when he doesn't need you anymore."

"Give me to you?" Peter whispered in horror. "How could he? He _knows_ you want to kill me! He _knows_ we hate each other!"

"We don't have to keep fighting each other, Pan," Hook continued, his voice soft but urgent. "I don't have to kill you to end our dispute… I don't _want_ to kill you if there's a better alternative. I'll give you a new life. I'll protect and provide for you, if you behave and obey me. I'll board you at the best of women's schools, and with my sponsorship you'll never lack for anything you desire. I'll even establish a dowry for you, to ensure you're properly cared for."

"Why?" Peter answered bitterly. "Is this a part of your plan to destroy Peter Pan? To make me into your 'flawless diamond'?"

"I don't have to destroy Peter Pan," Hook answered calmly, "your godparents will. I just want to pick up what's left of you when you're no longer Pan, and put the pieces back together. You have so much potential, I want to make you into something beautiful. Let me teach you and I'll give you the world."

Peter tossed the damp handkerchief at him, the cloth hitting him in the face before falling to the floor. "I don't want the world! I don't care about dresses or school or dowry, or _any_ of that! I just want to be me! I want to be free and…" she paused, her heart clenching painfully. _I can't have that. I let myself forget, but I remember now._

Hook saw the pain in the girl's eyes and the way one hand rose to cover her face while the other made a fist over her heart. "And what? What do you want?" He suppressed a smile and put his hand on her knee. "I'm the only one to ask you that, Pan, since your ordeal began. What do _you_ want?"

Peter shuddered, trying to block out a voice she remembered from her dreams. "I just want someone to love me," she sobbed. "They promised to love me, like a mommy and daddy would, but they lied! Uncle was right! No one will ever want me, I'm worthless. A worthless whore!" Hook tried to put his hand on her shoulder, to calm her down, but she knocked his hand away. "I hate you!" she screamed, covering her face and turning away. "You like watching me cry, you think it's funny!"

 _Uncle?_ Hook wondered as he backed away, giving the distraught girl more space. _Why would a man call a child, his own niece, a whore?_ "I'll be back shortly," he promised, leaving the handkerchief on the table. He left the cabin, locking the door behind him, intending to give Peter time to compose herself. _Damned weeping women!_ he thought in annoyance as he made his way to the kitchen. _I wish Pan was a boy right now, then I_ could _enjoy watching him cry._

Peter was able to calm down once Hook had left. She hastily wiped her face dry as she took several deep breaths. _I hate him! I don't like crying like a little girl in front of him, but just being near him makes it worse._ She paced the room for awhile, working off the nervous energy that had made her start trembling. As she paced, she thought, her sharp mind working furiously. She wasn't used to making long term plans for the future, not having any reason to do so in Neverland. She usually did such strategizing in short spurts, considering only the immediate future as she'd plan how best to pull off a prank or an adventure. But now she forced herself to continue her deliberations past the immediate situation, weighing her options and the outcomes she could expect from each. Hook's option was the only one that she was likely to survive, and she had to debate whether she's actually rather die first. It was a tough decision.

By the time the key rattled in the door again, Peter was once more sitting calmly at the table. She even managed to give Hook a small smile when he walked in bearing a tray with food on it.

"Here's some water and a small shot of rum, if you think you need it," the man said as he set the tray down. "There's some bread to help settle your stomach. It's after lunch-time and Cookson says you haven't eaten all day, so if you're still hungry after this I'll have more food brought to you." He sat down and waited for Peter to take a drink of the water. "Tell me about your uncle."

Peter paused, holding the bread she'd been about to bite into at her lips. "Who?" she managed to ask after a moment.

"You said your uncle called you a whore. Why?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully, setting the bread down. "I keep having dreams of the past, and when I'm really scared I see the memories too – like when I couldn't move on the beach. I remembered some things, things I don't understand. And this time I didn't forget."

"What do you remember about your uncle?"

Peter bit her lip, looking at Hook for a long moment as she considered what she should tell. "I didn't realize he was my uncle, not until you got me upset and it slipped out. But when I said it I realized it was true. He called me that a lot; I can hear him yelling it in my dreams. I also remember a cane he carried, and that he hit me with it… he made me bleed." Absently, Peter picked at a loose thread on her shirt. "I don't like remembering, and I don't like being alone in here when I do."

She sighed and picked up the bread again. "Which is why I want to make a compromise, Captain," she said as she began to eat. "Staying with you _would_ be distasteful, but if I'm exiled then it's probably my best option." She swallowed and took another drink of water. "But I don't want to be your ideal of a lady, and I think I'd rather die than become something that dull. So I want to compromise: I won't cause any trouble, I'll _try_ to act like a girl, and I'll follow your orders as a member of your crew. You said that women have played pirate before, so I don't see why I can't too."

Hook grimaced as he listened to Peter. "If you want to act like a crewman, then I'll give you duties. If you won't be a lady, you can be a scullery maid. But you _will_ learn basic manners and etiquette, and you will use them in my presence." He reached out and pushed Peter's jaw up, making her close her mouth. "Start with this: chew with your lips sealed, and don't unseal them to speak until you've swallowed."

Peter took another bite and glared, but her mouth stayed shut while she ate. _What am I doing? I can't leave Neverland with Hook!_ She didn't really remember living in London, but she knew her nightmares recently had been about that time. Hook had never frightened her as much as those nightmares had, and she'd rather take her chances with the pirates than go back there. _I guess I'll stay with the devil I know. He hasn't been so bad lately, I can at least try. I'll know if it'll be tolerable by the time they replace me, and I can choose then… if they even_ let _me choose._ "Alright Captain, let me out of this room and don't keep me chained. I'll follow your orders, I'll _try_ not to annoy you, and I'll let you teach me what it means to be a lady. But I won't act like something I don't want to be."

Hook nodded. "That's fair enough for now." _It's a start, and for now I'll have her compliant and more receptive to me. Once we're away from here, she'll do what_ I _want, regardless. I can bide my time and keep a lighter hand until then._ "Mr. Smee is drying your shift, and with the sun and wind today it should be dry in an hour. Once you're dressed, I'll have him take you to the kitchen, where Cookson will tell you what duties he'll have you do. I imagine you'll be washing dishes and peeling vegetables for the most part. I will set you other duties, and Smee will explain them. And you _will_ stand to be fitted for a proper dress, which you will wear when I am teaching you."

"I'm sure I can learn without the dress…"

"I'm not sure you can learn at all," Hook snapped, a little harsher than he intended, "but you'll attempt it in the dress. Proper attire is part and parcel of being a proper lady, and every lesson will be a full dress rehearsal."

"No," Peter insisted. "I'm giving in enough as it is. I don't want a dress, its bad enough I have to wear the shift. Why won't you just let that go?"

"I hold all the cards, Pan. You have nothing, no one to help you and nowhere to go. I'm negotiating with you to make you more compliant, but I _can_ just leave you in here to rot." He saw Peter's scowl deepen and knew that this was going to turn into a fight. "If you want to resist me on this, I shall simply take you back to the island and leave you lying where I found you. You were well below the high tide mark, if I recall." He waited patiently while Peter turned the scenario over in her mind.

Unbidden, but powerfully strong, Peter had a vision of lying on the beach, remembering how helpless she'd been before. She imagined that same sensation of being unable to move yet aware of her surroundings, and she added to that the feel of the waves breaking over her paralyzed body – creeping up her legs, to her waist, consuming her by slow inches as the tide came in until at last the waves covered her face, drowning her. Despite herself, she began to shake. "I really do hate you," she whispered.

"Will you comply?" Hook pressed. He wanted her to trust him and he hated resorting to this tactic to make her surrender, but he'd rather keep her in line with fear than actual punishment. _I wouldn't let her drown like that, but I'd leave her there long enough for her believe it._

"Yes," Peter answered sullenly, looking away in shame. "You win, for now. But if you're trying to convince me that staying with you is better than dying, you're failing miserably."

Hook felt a faint stirring of alarm, but he suppressed it with a smile. "I know you, Pan. You'll never surrender to death willingly." When the girl didn't answer or look up at him, he stood. "Someone will come for you later. Finish your lunch." With that he left, already looking forward to the fun he was going to have with her.

"You don't know me anymore, Codfish," Peter said quietly when he was gone. "I did surrender to death, and I remember the light and love that was waiting for me. Death doesn't sound so frightening anymore." Then she shook her head, trying to clear away such defeatist thoughts. She resumed eating, contemplating how best to get through the times ahead. _I won't let you beat me, Hook. I can play by your rules and still win this game._


	12. Dark Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Gloriana came awake with a cry, her arms flailing as she fought her disorientation and panic. Slowly, the room registered in her mind – fey candles in the sconces, butterfly tapestries, spider silk sheets and milkweed-down pillows providing a sharp contrast to the small, dark room, lumpy mattress and thin blankets of her rapidly fading dream. Here was warmth and peace. There had been cold and pain. She sat up quickly and let her husband's loving arms enfold her, and soon she lay crying against his chest, thankful for his soft words and gentle caresses.

"Glory, my Queen," he murmured, "what happened? You fainted at the seeing-stone. Are you well?"

"Ron," Gloriana moaned, the terrors slipping away. "I saw her memories. I didn't see much, they're all confused and too clouded by fear to understand, but oh, they hurt!" She gripped Oberon harder. "What if she had reason to hide her gender? She didn't know us very well… she's been so hurt… what if she was afraid we'd be cruel?"

"Then I think we've justified her fears," Oberon answered. "I was very cruel to her." He looked down and Gloriana and lovingly stroked her face. "We must find out the truth."

"No, not right now," Glory answered, returning his gaze. "And maybe it would be best if we left her memories alone. The collar is too unpredictable, and it's wedded to her too tightly. Once her fear and anger become too much, the collar's protections take over and we lose control. I lost control and it overwhelmed us both. She's afraid of us, Ron! She feels betrayed and she thinks we don't love her anymore."

"Of course we still love her!" Oberon snapped angrily. " _She_ betrayed _us_!" He sighed and shook his head sadly. "I was angry and I acted without thinking, and I hurt her, badly. We have to understand what happened and why."

"No prodding her memories, Ron. Not until it's absolutely necessary."

Oberon nodded. "We have another problem. The elder one, Billy Jukes, has failed the test. Something is wrong with him, and I need Peter to See him. If she's suffered as you have, I'm loath to do this now, but if we don't do something soon the boy will go mad."

Gloriana considered for a few moments. "I'll put him to sleep and lock him away, that should help him for a few hours more. That will give Peter time to calm down. Which boy will we test next?"

"The Lost Boys still refuse to cooperate. Slightly bit the last guard that tried to touch Billy, and Nibs and John tried to escape for the fifth time."

"Wendy is no longer with Peter. The pirate Captain sent her away when she and Peter tried to regain the island. I will collect her after I've seen to Billy. She can calm the Lost Boys and they'll obey her." Gloriana frowned. "I don't like the collar, my King. It will do her far more harm than good. She's going to weaken with it on, and she'll weaken faster if she's away from the isle for too long. We should at least send her to the Indians. Panther will watch her well… I don't trust Hook."

Oberon stood and crossed the room to stand before a large tapestry. Upon it were scores of symbols stitched in gold – the names of every Pan, back to the beginning. The last symbol, Peter's, glowed. "If she's weakened, it will be safer to revoke the gift when the new Pan is found. We'll be able to sever her link to the island without hurting her again. But we must hurry and finish testing the Lost Boys, I don't know how long we can safely keep her cut off from Neverland. I'll take Billy Jukes to Peter. You'll find Wendy and bring her here. We must test the other children and discover which one is to be the next Pan."

Gloriana joined her husband at the tapestry. "And if none of the Lost Boys are Pan-worthy?"

"Then we have a most serious problem, my Queen."

Not long after Peter finished her lunch, Mullins knocked on the door. Peter called for the visitor to enter and smiled when she saw who it was. She wasn't fond of Mullins or Cookson, but their regular visits to her cabin during her imprisonment had been a source of relief from boredom. She'd quickly come to appreciate their company. Her smile turned to a frown when the man stepped further into the lamplight.

"What happened to your face, Mr. Mullins?" she asked, seeing his bruised, swollen cheek.

"Its what happens when ya mouth off to th' Cap'n and _can't_ fly outta his reach," the man answered gruffly. "Keep that in mind while yer here. Bein' a girl protects ya, but it don't spare ya from one of Hook's rules: spare the rod an' spoil the child."

Peter grimaced at the familiar adage, but she nodded her agreement. She knew Hook only played the gentleman when it suited him; she had the bruises on her back and cuts on her body (small as they were) to prove that he _would_ hit her if she made him angry enough. "Does he hit Billy Jukes much?"

Mullins's face tightened in worry and he shook his head. "No, I think I can count on one hand th' number of times he's punished Billy, and every time it was done proper. Billy's got th' brains to stay outta Hook's way, and if he defies him it's done so he won't get caught. Billy's been hurt enough; Hook knows it an' keeps his fists off him."

"Well, that's right decent of the Captain," Peter said sarcastically.

Mullins chuckled. "Decent? Maybe, maybe not. I think it's mostly that Hook knows if ya beat a dog too much, he gets so cowered that he's useless – or he goes mad an' tries to kill everyone in sight. Billy was near that breakin' point when we found 'im, and th' rest of th' crew didn't help undo th' damage any. I tried to be nice to Billy, and when Hook saw how smart th' lad was he gave him to me to look out for… and made it clear to th' other men to lay off."

The pirate shook himself, realizing he missed the boy so much that he was getting nostalgic. "Just like Hook put me in charge of you, but I won't be fer much longer. Cookson and Smee will be taskin' ya, and yer free to go about th' ship, so I don't have to guard you any more. But if _anyone_ gives you trouble, you let me know and I'll take care of 'em. Cap'n don't want no one messin' with ya, and he'll take it outta my hide if anyone does. Most of th' men still don't like ya, specially Mason." When Peter nodded her understanding, Mullins beckoned for her to follow. "Smee's got somethin' for ya on deck."

Intrigued and ready to get out of the stuffy room, Peter followed the pirate outside. When she stepped into the afternoon sunlight, she immediately noticed that the deck was abandoned. Shortly after that she saw the strange set-up Mullins was leading her to. There was a large tub of steaming hot water, sail-cloths hung around it like curtains.

"Smee says you need a bath, and th' Cap'n agreed," Mullins explained. "We don't have to worry 'bout you escapin', so we don't have to stand guard or tie you down. Everyone else is below, 'cept for Smee and Hook. Those two are in th' cabin. You need anything, holler and Smee'll bring it."

Peter looked doubtfully at the tub. "I already had a bath this week… I haven't been here a week, have I?"

"Close, but not quite. But you should take one anyway."

"But the water's hot! Won't it burn me?"

Mullins frowned but put his hand in the water. "It's not that hot. I wish this were MY tub, I'd love a hot bath."

"Hot bath," Peter repeated, putting her own hand in the water. It felt nice. "I've only had cold ones. I hate taking a bath in the mornings because it's so cold."

"I think you'll like this, then," he told her. He took a moment to show her the soap and towels, and where Smee had left her clothes. Once he was done, he pulled the sails closed and left her to it.

Peter undressed and gingerly stepped into the water. In no time she was sitting in the tub, eyes closed as she luxuriated in the relaxing heat. "Wendy, if somehow everything turns out right, from now on _all_ our baths will be hot." She immediately loved the feel of the hot liquid embracing her body, easing her tense muscles. For just a little while, she let herself forget about everything that was wrong in her life. "Thank you, Mr. Smee," she called out. After a moment's hesitation, she added, "Thank you, Captain."

Standing in the doorway of his cabin, Hook smiled as he stared at the sailcloth surrounding the tub. _Another small victory for me in our little battle of wills, Pan._ He'd expected a fight when Mullins led the girl to the tub, but he'd been pleasantly surprised to see her comply. And then she'dthanked him! _I don't know if your little growth spurt as made you act more mature, or if it's simply because you've endured too much lately to fight me anymore. But I like your attitude, and I will reward it, just as I will punish you when you misbehave. You_ will _learn to obey and respect me, and you will thank me for my lessons._ Feeling terribly pleased with himself and optimistic about his plan, Hook returned to his cabin to give Peter her privacy.

It took Wendy over two hours to finally reach the Indian Village. She had been nearly halfway to the Underground House before she even thought about where she was going and altered her course to the Village. It would be dangerous to try to enter the house without flying, and once she was within, it would be nearly impossible to leave. Also, the realization that she would be there alone, with no one coming home for her to wait for, was unbearable. For the first time since she'd come to Neverland, she was truly alone. Her boys had been kidnapped and Peter was Hook's prisoner. It was even worse because the little girl knew that she was utterly incapable of helping any of them escape.

 _I'm useless… they're all prisoners and I can't help them… why couldn't I help Peter? How could I just sit there and let Hook take her?_ Wendy no longer bothered wiping away the tears that fell from her eyes. It didn't matter. _Chief Panther will know what to do,_ she told herself, needing to believe in something. _Maybe he can help me get back to Hook's ship… if I could just speak to the Captain, maybe he'll change his mind and let me stay with Peter. Or maybe the Indians will help me rescue her…_

"Wendy!" a girl's voice rang out, dragging her from her thoughts. Wendy looked up, startled to see tipis before her. Tiger Lily and Hard-To-Hit were jogging towards her, waving. Relief surged through her and she stumbled, her bare feet and aching legs betraying her at last.

Tiger Lily ran when she saw Wendy fall, and she called over her shoulder for her brother to fetch their father. She helped the tired girl sit up, wondering at her torn dress and dirty, tear-streaked face. "Wendy, what has happened?"

Wendy smiled at Tiger Lily, then turned her head to watch Chief Panther as he approached. "Captain Hook has Peter and the Lost Boys are gone…. There's no one else that can help me."

"Where are the Lost Boys if they're gone?" Panther asked as he squatted beside the girl.

"I have them," a woman's voice said from behind him. Wendy and the Indians looked up to see Queen Gloriana standing there. "They are quite safe, Wendy. Will you come with me? Young Michael misses you terribly."

"Michael," Wendy repeated, feeling a horrible pulling within her heart. Should she go with the Queen and see her brothers, or stay here and try to help Peter?

"Why do you have the Lost Boys, Queen Gloriana?" Panther asked, his only outward sign of distress evidenced by the slight narrowing of his eyes.

"Peter Pan is no longer suitable as our Pan," Gloriana said stiffly, trying to keep her voice steady, "so the boys are being tested as her replacement."

"Her?" Panther repeated in surprise. He frowned and shook his head. "I knew her secret would not keep forever. But I did hope you and your King would not prove her fears were justified. If you are seeking to replace her, then she was correct to distrust you."

"You knew?" Gloriana whispered, incredulous. "You knew and you did not tell us?"

"I and my people serve Neverland according to our pact," Panther answered, "but you do not rule us. I agreed with my father that Neverland was best served by hiding her secret."

"Why did she lie?" Gloriana asked urgently, hoping to solve the riddle at last. "And why does she claim to not remember anything?"

Panther turned back to Wendy and helped the girl to stand, taking the time to dust off her skirt and wipe her face clean. When the little girl was more composed, he stood and turned back to the fairy. "I do not know why Peter Pan was so afraid to be revealed as a girl. I was only a boy when I met her. She was in a tree, watching us in secret because she was too afraid to show herself. I was with my friends and heard the rustle in the branches. Thinking to prove my aim, I shot an arrow into the tree. Great was my surprise when, instead of a bird, the new Pan fell with my arrow in her belly.

"My father cared for her, and because I was to blame for her injury I assisted him. It was when he tried to remove the arrow that we discovered she was female. My father and Tinkerbell decided to help her hide the truth and made me forget what I'd seen. When I became Shaman, Tinkerbell removed the spell and allowed me to remember, because I would have to heal Peter from time to time. To better keep the secret, Peter also was made to forget, and all knowledge she had of the differences between man and woman was hidden from her."

Panther shook his head again and thought before he continued. "The new Peter Pan, the one that was born when the old one forgot, he was much happier and less fearful than she ever was. It was the right thing to do."

"But why didn't anyone tell us?" Gloriana insisted, feeling betrayed all over again.

"Because Peter feared rejection more than she feared death. She would not allow my father to heal her until he and Tinkerbell promised to keep her secret." He paused as he remembered that long-ago day, seeing once again the girl with her dagger-tip pressed to her own throat, the arrow still protruding from her. He remembered the naked fear in her eyes as she'd made her demands. "She said she'd rather die as a boy than to be sent back as a girl."

 _And we're fulfilling her nightmare by taking Neverland from her. I wish we had another choice!_ Gloriana sighed and asked another question. "Is that when Tinkerbell discovered the truth, or did she know before then?"

"I do not know," Panther answered, "and I can tell you no more."

The Queen nodded. She had a lot to talk to Oberon about when she and he returned from their respective duties. Hoping that everything went well with his visit to the pirate ship, she turned her attention back to her own duty. She looked down at Wendy, who and been listening intently to the conversation. "You must come with me, my dear. I need the Lost Boys to willingly submit to the tests, else it will hurt them. Will you come and talk to them? They're upset and Michael keeps calling for you."

"But Peter…" Wendy protested, torn by her loyalties.

"Peter is safe. Captain Hook cannot harm her, the magic in the collar protects her."

"But she was hurt! She wouldn't move or talk to me!"

"Come, Wendy," Gloriana commanded. "I will put you more at ease later. For now, you are needed elsewhere. You cannot help Peter right now."

Wendy hesitated only a moment longer before she stepped forward. _Hook said he wouldn't hurt her, he promised! And Michael needs me, he's too little to take care of himself. Maybe I can help the boys escape, and we'll all come back to help Peter!_ Thus decided, she took the fairy's hand. Both she and the Queen disappeared in a flash.

Panther looked at Tiger Lily, sadness apparent in his expression. "Dark days are upon us, my child."


	13. Broken Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13

Chapter 13

 _I think I'll take a bath tomorrow, too,_ Peter mused as she leaned against the railing. She was clean, dry and clothed now, and her body felt wonderfully relaxed. Behind her, Mason was busy emptying the tub of now-cold water.

"Judging by the obscene amount of time you spent in the bath, I wager you enjoyed it?" Hook asked as he approached her.

"It was okay," Peter answered offhandedly, stubbornly refusing to admit taking pleasure from anything the man offered.

"You're welcome, by the way," Hook said, ignoring her obvious understatement. "You called out your thanks, and you're welcome for the bath."

Peter shrugged, regretting that she'd let her guard down enough earlier for that to have slipped out. But then she turned to look up at him and smiled. "Wendy said I should be polite, so I suppose as long as you're being nice I should be nice too."

"A wise decision," Hook answered, but his features were creased in a small frown as he took in her appearance. "Where are your boots and what in perdition happened to your hair?"

Peter glanced at her bare feet, wiggling her toes. "My boots weren't with the dress. Mr. Smee left out some horribly ugly black boots, but I couldn't figure out how to put them on. And my hair," she touched her ponytail briefly, "I brushed it some, but it was too tangled. So I used the lace from one of the boots to tie it back out of my way."

Hook shook his head, took the girl's arm and led her to Starkey. The pirate looked up from his task of sharpening his sword, surprised. "Do something with the rat's nest on her head, then show her how to lace her boots," Hook ordered.

"Why me, Cap'n?" Starkey asked, his voice squeaking as he tried to hide his dismay. Absently, his hand went to the faded bruises on his throat, recalling his previous hairstyling session with Pan.

"Yeah, why him?" Peter added. "I can do it."

Hook ignored the girl and smiled at Starkey. "Because you have an appalling knowledge of women's fashion. You claim to have been quite the ladies' man once, but I seriously doubt your story. I'm more inclined to believe that the school you taught at was a women's school, and that perhaps you found trouble there that forced you to turn to piracy for employment. Otherwise, I would have to question your more personal preferences. But I really don't care _how_ you know about female attire, so long as you apply that knowledge when I command you to. When it comes to clothes, make-up, and hair-styling, you will assist Miss Pan and teach her how to do it herself." Hook narrowed his eyes and poked the pirate in the chest with the crook of his hook. "And if I hear a word of protest, I'll have _you_ in a dress and passed on to the crew as this evening's entertainment!"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," Starkey quavered, his eyes wide with alarm. "But I'll need another brush. The little miss broke mine on Mason's head."

Thirty minutes later, Peter sat at a make-shift vanity in Hook's cabin – seated on a stool facing a small table, upon which was propped a mirror. Behind her, Starkey was immersed in his duty of grooming her hair. It had been a trial getting the tangles out, the girl's scalp was apparently very sensitive. But Starkey had dealt with such ladies before and knew how to tease the knots out without pulling her hair. He was fairly certain that this knowledge had saved him a lot of pain… he had no desire to have Pan try to strangle him again for hurting her. Once that obstacle was passed, he'd been determined to teach her how to do this correctly, and had insisted that the key to healthy hair was to give it a hundred strokes with the brush. Peter wasn't complaining, not by a long shot. She leaned on the table, her elbows propped on the surface and her chin supported by the heels of her hands. She was, in fact, quite relaxed and content, and her eyes remained half-lidded as she made the merest pretense of trying to stay awake.

Starkey grinned as he gave her hair another stroke, hearing her give a low, almost imperceptible moan. He'd thought he'd been hearing things, but now that he was attuned to the sound he could make it out perfectly. He turned to Hook, who was at his desk working on his logs, and caught the man's attention. He made a beckoning motion, putting his fingers to his lips to indicate silence.

Hook crept to Starkey's side, looking at the man quizzically. But then Starkey began brushing Peter's hair again, and Hook turned his attention to her, amazement flooding his features. _Is she…? Surely not!_ Another stroke and he heard it again. _Gall and brimstone! She's purring!_ Hook grinned in delight as he took the brush from Starkey and began to run it through her hair. Peter moaned again, the soft sound so low and throaty that it sounded feline. _She's like a kitten, purring in contentment,_ he mused as he continued brushing. Eliciting that sound gave him an acute sense of pleasure, and finally he could help himself no longer. He set the brush aside and ran his fingers through her hair, reveling in the silky softness. Playfully, he leaned down to murmur in her ear, "Do you like this, Kitten?"

The sound of the man's voice so close brought Peter speeding back to awareness. Her eyes flew open, wide with panic, and she leapt forward to get away. She struck the table with her hips, overturning it and sending the mirror crashing to the floor. The hand in her hair tightened reflexively and she screamed as she pulled against it. Searing agony burned her head as some of her hair was ripped out by the roots, and she began to thrash violently as she tried to get free.

He'd startled her, Hook knew that, but she was far more panicked than she should be. It occurred to him that she'd calm easier if he let her go, but it was too foreign to his nature to _ever_ willingly allow Pan to escape him. Instead, Hook tightened his fist in her hair and snaked his arm around her waist, trying to hold her still until she calmed. Peter's hands came up in response, her fingers locking around the man's wrist in an effort to loosen his grip on her hair.

"Calm down, Kitten," he said as he sat on the stool she'd vacated. A second later, Peter was sitting in across his lap. "Calm down."

Peter drew a deep breath as her frazzled mind registered where she was. She fixed her eyes on Hook's face and it calmed her more to see the unguarded expression of true concern he wore. "It hurts," she said softly, her hands squeezing around his wrist.

Apologetically, Hook released his hold on her hair. "It seems I've undone all the good Starkey did in brushing it," he commented as he tried to smooth down a snarled lock.

Peter winced and pulled her head away from his hand, tentatively rubbing her injured scalp with her fingers. "Why'd you pull my hair?"

"I'm sorry. I startled you and you panicked. I had to hold onto _something_ to keep you from bolting," he explained. "Are you alright now?"

Peter nodded, still wincing. "I don't like people pulling my hair, it hurts a lot. Wendy says it's because I'm tender-headed."

"Are you, now?" Hook mused, intrigued. He touched the girl lightly on the nape of her neck. Peter's shoulders instantly came up as her head tilted back - a reflex he had seen before, but never so acute as it was in this girl. His hand rose and gently stroked the lobe of her ear. Peter squeaked and jerked away, and Hook noted with amusement that her skin had blossomed with goosebumps. _Very sensitive there, who would have thought it?_ _I'll have to remember that if she mouths off again. A good tug on her hair or ear would be more effective than a slap on the hand or rump._ He also thought that a comforting touch there might go a long way towards calming her. _No wonder she was purring._

Peter, however, was not comfortable with her current position. "You can let me go now, Captain," she said stiffly. His hand came towards her neck again and she tried to pull away. "Stop touching me!"

"What _are_ you doing to my god-daughter, Captain Hook?" came a cold male voice. Peter froze and clutched at the arm around her waist. A familiar rustling sound filled the room and then Oberon was standing before them, glaring at Hook. "I sincerely hope your intentions aren't what they appear to be, else I will make you regret you'd ever been born."

Hook glared at Oberon, his face turning scarlet at the fairy's insinuation. But he looked at his position with new eyes and realized that it was rather inappropriate. He tried to move Peter to stand her on her feet, but the girl merely gripped his arm tighter. _She's terrified of him…_ he thought quickly and came to a decision. _I want her trust, and I can begin to get it by offering her protection from the one that betrayed her._ He opened his mouth to demand the fairy leave, but Peter spoke up at last.

"He's not doing anything to me, King Oberon," she said, her voice sounding stronger than she felt. She _was_ afraid, but not nearly as afraid as she would have been were she not so tired. "I was upset and he made me feel better."

Oberon turned his attention to Peter and the coldness left his eyes. He studied his ward for several moments, taking in just how different she looked. There was no denying her femininity now and he felt a flush of guilt and sadness when he saw how much she'd grown. He took a step forward, and his sadness deepened when he saw the way she recoiled from him. "What has upset you, child?" he asked softly, backing away a step.

"Are all fairies that stupid," Hook murmured in Peter's ear, "or is it just the royal ones?" He smiled when he heard Peter suppress a giggle and she relaxed somewhat.

Peter felt the tension and fear that had nearly frozen her break, and she glared at Oberon with a small half-smile on her lips. "Oh, nothing important," she answered, sarcasm dripping from her words. "I mean, its such a little thing that the two people I loved like parents, that swore they loved me, have disowned me and left me to rot with pirates while they're busy looking for someone else to lie to and claim they love." She saw Oberon's face draw up in a frown and she pressed on with reckless joy. She'd felt helpless for too long and couldn't resist trying to hurt the one that had put her in that position.

"Who cares that you've kidnapped my friends and taken them to be tested to replace me? Why should I worry, knowing everything that could go wrong with the tests, knowing that they could be driven mad or killed? It doesn't matter at all to heartless creatures like fairies!"

"Peter," Oberon growled warningly, but the girl pressed on. Behind her, she could feel Hook chuckling and she felt a strange sense of gratitude that he was there and on her side. She didn't even mind when his other arm wrapped around her waist. She welcomed his embrace, it lent her the strength and security she desperately needed right now.

"It doesn't matter either that I've been collared like a dog – that it paralyzes me when I try to fight or to run away, or that it lets you dig into my mind and make me remember all kinds of things I don't want to remember. It was such great fun this morning, not being able to move or even scream. Too bad the Croc didn't come by then, she would have ended all your worries for you!"

"No harm can come to you, little ingrate!" Oberon snapped, angry more at hearing his actions questioned than the increasingly belligerent tone of Peter's voice. "Despite your treason, we've left you with every protection. I could have put you in a dungeon cell, but instead I've left you where there's air and light!"

"Don't try to pretend you did it for me!" Peter screamed, enraged and finally able to vent her feelings. "You left me with my enemy to fend for myself, and without the means to escape or protect myself!"

"If Hook or any of his men try to harm you, the collar's magic will strike them dead!" Oberon shouted back, flustered and furious. Only Gloriana ever questioned him and only his Queen had that right. It bothered him to find that, however much he was angry at Peter right now, he still cared enough for her to actually try to defend himself from her accusations.

"Excuse me?" Hook barked incredulously. Close behind him he heard Starkey's gasp of surprise. "Your queen forgot to mention that very important warning when she placed this girl in my arms!"

"I would have thought that Peter would tell you," Oberon said simply. "Bragged about it even, lording over you that she was immune to your threats."

Hook said nothing as he glared down at the girl on his lap. Peter felt him tense up, his body beginning to shake with anger. His claw arm twitched, and she knew he would have killed her then were it not for the trap around her neck. Peter stilled, realizing how foolish she'd been to warm up to Hook, even a little bit. "How was I supposed to know?" she snapped, feeling alone and outnumbered again. "I was asleep when you put the damned thing on me! I didn't even know it was there until Wendy pointed it out!"

"Aye, that's true," Hook growled, relaxing somewhat. He turned his gaze back on Oberon, "It would have been safer for you to have explained the restraints you placed on her as well as the protections. It would have saved her the effort of swimming to shore, and the effort I went through to get her back. And if any of my crew had died because of your neglect…"

"You would continue to sit there and remain quiet, and be thankful I don't turn you into a _real_ codfish, Captain," Oberon retorted. He looked back to Peter and the anger faded to puzzlement. "We gave you the eyes to See, Peter. Surely you've Seen the magic of the collar and tried to find a weakness? I thought it would be the first thing you did when you awoke."

Peter stared at Oberon blankly, trying to understand what he meant. Then she blinked, giving a start as she remembered. "Oh! I forgot I could do that… I haven't Seen in so long."

Oberon's frown deepened and he stretched out his hand towards her. From his palm arose a thin tendril of magic, as tangible as smoke. "You say that a lot, Peter… too much in fact. I assumed your excuse of forgetting was just that: a weak excuse." The wispy cloud drifted towards the girl, but it paused when Peter shrank away, pressing her back close against the pirate's chest. Oberon could read the fear, anger and confusion in her eyes and realized Gloriana was right: left unchecked, Peter could easily come to hate them. And if Peter became the enemy of the fairy court, Neverland itself would ally with her against them. It would become a war between them, and only the Pan's death would bring the island back under his control. "I can't hurt you either, Peter," he said soothingly, trying to ease her.

"Maybe not physically," Peter answered, wincing as the magic reached for her again.

The king winced himself, but he sent the magic on to gently caress her brow, tasting her. Almost immediately he sensed the tangled layers of fairy magic in her mind and he hissed as he withdrew his spell. "I'm going to rip Tinker Bell's wings off and feed her to a cat!"

"No!" Peter shouted, afraid for her friend. She pushed against Hook and the man set her down so that she could stand before her godfather. "Leave Tink alone!"

"I'm sorry, Peter, I truly am," the fairy said softly. "All these years, you'd say you forgot things, and we laughed, thinking you were being childish – one of your charming little habits. We didn't realize what she was doing to you… she could have killed you!"

Peter paused, dread knotting in her stomach. "Tink would never hurt me," she protested.

"She's used her magic to make you forget things," Oberon explained, feeling guilt well up all over again at the way he'd treated this girl. "Not just once, but countless times! The layers of spells are like a badly made dam, remove the wrong one and they all come crashing down. I thought you were lying about forgetting your gender, Peter, that's why we dug into your mind to find the truth. I'm sorry I didn't believe you, and I'm sorry I hurt you. With that weave of magic, she could have made you forget anything, made you _believe_ anything!"

Peter felt hope kindle in her heart. "If you know I wasn't lying, then can I go home? Will you still love me and not make me leave Neverland?"

Oberon shook his head, clearing his shock at his discovery. "We don't know yet what happened, and we don't know when Tinker Bell cast this spell on you. You aren't cleared of this deception yet, but it does weigh heavily in your favor that you honestly didn't know when we uncovered the truth. I _will_ get to the bottom of this mystery, and I will have a long chat with your fairy. Things will be sorted out and made right when I finally know the truth."

"And then I can go home?" Peter asked, but the look her godfather fixed on her made her heart quail. At his next words, she felt it die in her chest.

"Regardless of what I find out, you will still be replaced, Peter," Oberon said sternly. "A girl cannot be Pan, no matter how much we love her. We will find a boy to take the Gift, and when you are no longer Pan you will leave Neverland and never return." He paused when Peter began wailing, and he felt remorse for his harsh words when he saw her sink to her knees, her face drawn up with grief. His compulsion to go to her was stilled when Hook dropped to his knee beside her, offering the girl his support.

"It will be alright," Hook told her softly, trying to comfort her by stroking her hair gently. He looked up at the king, "You won't send her to Kensington Gardens to become a beggar, will you? You'll give her to me, like you promised?"

"If she's guilty of deception, then I will give her to you," Oberon swore, "But if she is innocent, she will choose where she wishes to go. There are other lands in the fairy realm that will welcome her; she just cannot remain in Neverland."

"Or you'll just kill me to get the power back, like you did before," Peter sobbed, trying to get herself back under control. But she hurt inside, knowing that her life in Neverland was over, one way or another.

"I won't kill you, Peter, unless you make me. The collar will protect you then, and even now it is working to prepare you for the day we Release you."

Peter wiped her eyes on the hem of her dress and stood, accepting the hand up that Hook offered her. "How?" she asked, her voice steadier now as she somehow put aside her feelings to deal with the matter at hand.

Oberon pulled a small sphere from his robe and stared at its red glow for a moment. "We will discuss all of that at a more appropriate time, Peter. Just take comfort in my assurance that you will not die and that we will not simply cast you into the wilderness when we no longer need you. There was a reason for my coming here today, and if I don't attend to that reason soon, there won't be a need to. Billy Jukes has failed the test and is unsuitable as a Pan." The sphere hovered above his palm for a moment before it floated to Peter. The girl stared at it uncertainly before reaching out and taking it into her own hand. "He's had… difficulties."

 _Oh, no,_ Peter thought, guessing who was inside the small orb. She gently squeezed and it popped, spilling a glowing red mist through her fingers down to the floor. It pooled there and from it appeared a boy curled up into a ball.

"What did you do to my gunner?" Hook snarled as he squatted beside the boy.

Jukes stirred at the sound of his captain's voice, uncurling and opening his eyes. Hook swore softly when he beheld the boy's blind eyes, the orbs milky with cataracts. "Captain?" Billy called, weakly reaching out for the man he heard so close beside him. Then he turned his face towards Peter and a shudder passed through him. He closed his eyes and covered them with his hands as he began to scream.

Hook stood and drew his sword. "You bastard!" he snarled, raising the blade to kill the smug-looking fairy king.

Oberon raised his hand and the sword flew from Hook's grip to embed itself in the wall. When the pirate raised his claw, Oberon gestured again, sending the man skidding backwards several feet to land on his rear. "Sit there like a good little pirate," Oberon ordered and Hook found to his rage that he couldn't rise. "Peter, close your eyes and See what's wrong with the boy. Hopefully you can fix it, or he's not going to be much use as a gunner anymore."

Peter stared at Billy, dropping to her knees beside him. She could see that he was in pain and frightened, so she did Oberon's bidding without hesitation. She closed her eyes for a moment, attuning them to the levels she needed to See. When she opened them again, the physical world was gone and she beheld the glowing fires of magic that imbued it.

She glanced around, getting her bearings. Behind her was the aurora-like glow that was Neverland. To her left, she saw two glowing-white man-shapes she knew were Hook's and Starkey's souls (souls and magic weren't the same thing, but they were close enough that Peter could see them both with the Sight). Absently, she noticed that Hook's appendage glowed with magic – interesting, but not important right now. Oberon stood before her, glowing bright with power. She could see the strands of magic that connected him to Neverland, and the strands that joined him to herself. She frowned as she noticed something was wrong along those lines, but concerns about that fled her mind when Billy screamed again.

Remembering her task, Peter turned her gaze to the boy lying before her. She touched the tendrils of magic wrapped about his head like a blindfold, clucking softly to herself. Billy brought up his hands again, and she saw the ribbon of magic he clutched. He pulled it to his face, adding another layer of magic, and she understood what had happened.

"Don't do that, you silly ass," she murmured softly, winding a thread around his hands and body to hold him still. "You gave him Sight, didn't you, and he was too sensitive to it," she told Oberon as she worked, slowly unwinding the magic. "He probably didn't like what he saw, too old to get used to it, and he used the magic to try to blind himself." She worked carefully, letting Billy adjust as his vision slowly became more normal. "He didn't understand he was making it worse." As she worked, the cataracts covering the boy's eyes began to dissolve, leaking away to run down the sides of his face like milky tears.

Billy began to calm as the layers were removed and the grotesque, unbearably bright shapes dimmed and resolved themselves into more tolerable images. He didn't understand at first, but he responded to the comforting voice above him. He blinked, and all at once the world fell into place and he gasped at the wonder of it. "Wait," he begged, fixing his eyes on the figure above him. "Please wait, let me see you."

Peter nodded and left the last layer of magic in place. Billy struggled to sit up and she unbound him so he could. "You weren't making a blindfold, silly, you were making glasses. And they were way too strong for your eyes. But now you can See just fine and when I take that last bit off, your eyes will be normal again."

Billy stared at the girl, smiling softly. "Are you an angel?" he whispered, reaching out to touch one of the soft, white ribbons that flowed from her body like angelic robes. _No, not robes. They're a part of her, more like hair, or petals if she were a flower._ Like white flames, the magic flowed from her in waves and strands, connecting her to everyone and everything around her. "You're so beautiful," he said aloud, daring to touch her face.

Peter flushed at the compliment, both strangely pleased and embarrassed by it. She could understand what he meant, she always thought the magic surrounding her was wonderful, too. When it had still been new to her, she'd spent hours just watching it flow around her. _But he said_ I _was beautiful, not the magic,_ and her flush deepened at the thought.

Then Billy gasped and drew back, his eyes widening in shock. "What did they do to you? How could they do something so _awful_?" He pointed at her neck and turned to Oberon. "Take it off! It's killing her!"

"Not quite," the fairy king said softly. "We'll intervene before she dies of it."

"You son of a bitch!" Billy shouted, leaping towards Oberon.

The fairy gestured, halting the boy's advance. "I think you've seen enough," he said as he touched the gunner's face, removing the last layers of magic that Peter had said were there.

Billy grunted in shock as the world of living flame vanished, abruptly changing into the world of solidity he'd been born to see. The suddenness of the change disoriented him and he fell to his knees. Vertigo and nausea overcame him and he vomited once before passing out.

Oberon grimaced as some of the mess splattered onto his robes and shoes, but he ignored it. Instead, he used a spell to roll the boy out of the puddle and onto his back. A low moan caught his attention and he looked to Peter. She stared blankly down at herself, her hands creeping up to her throat. Oberon didn't know what she saw, he couldn't see the magic like Peter (and recently, Billy) could. But by her expression of horror and the alarming shade of grey her complexion had turned, he knew she didn't like it. "Peter?" he called, going to her.

"No," Peter moaned, beginning to claw at her throat as she stood. She was unsteady on her feet, swaying as she began to back away from him. "No, please, no, take it off." Her nails made shallow scratches as she frantically tried to remove the collar.

"Peter, calm down, it's for your own good," Oberon tried to explain. He saw her panic, saw her begin to draw blood. It trickled onto the silver band, where it was promptly absorbed.

"No, no, no-no-no-no-no," Peter chanted her denial, her voice rising in hysterics. Beneath her fingers, the silver collar turned black.

"Stop it, Peter!" Oberon hissed, reaching for her hands. His fingers closed around her wrists and Peter screamed. Lightning flashed between them, breaking their contact and throwing them apart. Oberon found himself on his back several feet away. Peter struck the wall behind her, the back of her head connecting with it solidly. Her body went limp and her eyes rolled back as she slid to the floor, unconscious.

Oberon sat up, shaken by what had just happened. He didn't understand it, the only explanation he could think of was that the collar had perceived him as a threat and repelled him. That blow would have killed a mortal, but his power had shielded him. Unfortunately, it had blown back on Peter.

"Peter?" he called, getting to his feet. She was slumped against the wall and he could see a trickle of blood issuing from her lips. _She's hurt!_ He was halfway to her when he was brought up short by the point of a sword under his nose. Ignatius Starkey stood between him and his godchild, his sword held out threateningly.

"Haven't you hurt the girl enough? Leave her be and let her own kind take care of her," the thin pirate growled, shaking with outrage.

"I am her godfather!" Oberon snarled and the blade of Starkey's sword turned black and dissolved into ash.

Starkey dropped the useless hilt but stood his ground. "Then act like it for once and think about HER! Captain Hook _hated_ her and he never managed to hurt her this much!"

Oberon looked to the unconscious girl, seeing the blood on her lips and her throat. _Oh, Glory, what will we do? This has gone so wrong, but there's no going back._ He felt tears in his eyes as he turned to regard the man in his path. Such a small man, unarmed, with no powers of his own, and he still dared to defy the Fairy King. _This is why humankind will outlast us._ "Take care of her," he said at last. He glanced at Hook and released him, nodding as the man got to his feet. "Both of you take care of her. It's a shameful thing when her enemies can show her more compassion that her own family. But I have an entire kingdom to care for and she's endangered it more than you know. I _can't_ let my own emotions for her cloud my judgment, and I will not sacrifice all of them for her."

"Tell yourself whatever you need to, if it helps you sleep at night, pixie," Hook growled as he stood by Starkey's side.

Oberon's face darkened, but he said not a word as he faded from sight.

"Tell Mullins his boy's back," Hook told Starkey, "and send Smee to me." He knelt by Peter and began checking her injuries. He shook with fury, but his touch remained gentle. _I will kill him, king or not, if he hurts either of my children again!_


	14. Child of Wonder, Child of Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Something cool and damp gently rubbed his face, bringing him awake all too quickly for comfort. Billy groaned, protesting his return to consciousness as he became aware of the pounding ache in his head and the vile, acrid taste in his mouth. He raised a hand to bat away the annoyance that had roused him.

"Wake up, boy," a gruff voice commanded. "Wake up and lets get ya cleaned up, ya got puke all over yer vest."

"Robert?" Billy called, opening his eyes a crack, fearful of what he'd see. Gone was the world of light and fire that had frightened him so much with its alien logic and beauty. Instead, he saw a scarred, mustached face peering down at him, the face he'd known and loved for many years. "Robert!" he said again, his voice filled with relief. He sat up quickly and threw himself against the man, latching his arms around him in a death-grip.

Mullins held the boy back just as fiercely, tears stinging in his eyes. He hadn't cried for years and he was determined not to start now. But Billy for once had no such compunction, and his body shuddered with the force of his sobs. He'd been too hurt and too scared the past few days to care what anyone thought of his tears.

"It's alright, lad, yer home now. Pan said you'd be back, but gods I was so worried! I tried ta stop 'em, Billy, I tried to keep 'em from takin' ya. I'm sorry I let ya down," Mullins babbled, knowing he was rambling but still somehow unable to stop. His last talk with the boy had been a nasty fight, and he'd regretted his words and actions ever since. He had so many things he needed to say now. "I love you, Billy. No matter what, I'll always love you," he murmured into the boy's ear.

"Love you too," Billy whispered back. He gradually calmed and relaxed his hold enough to wipe his face dry. He smiled when Mullins didn't let go. "I'm okay," he told the man. "Feels like I got a hangover and my mouth tastes like Cookson's Tuesday night surprise, but I'm okay." He looked up from the pirate's shoulder and saw that he was in Hook's cabin. "Where'd the angel go?" Alarm filled him as he remembered what he'd seen after she had saved him. "That fairy bastard didn't take her, did he?"

"Angel?" Mullins repeated, confused.

Starkey tapped Billy on the shoulder and the gunner pried himself away from Mullins enough to turn around and see him. "Your angel lies yonder," he said softly, pointing to the other side of the room.

Billy turned more and Robert released him just enough to allow the maneuver. He saw his captain sitting on the floor, holding a sleeping girl in his arms. Smee was fussing over her, dabbing a wet cloth to her lips. She looked strangely familiar, but he didn't know any girls of his own age. "Who is she? What happened to her?"

"That's the Lady Pan," Starkey answered.

"What?" Billy nearly shouted, stunned. He could recognize her now, but he couldn't believe it. She was too old. _I haven't been gone THAT long, have I?_

Hook looked up sharply when he heard Billy's exclamation. He nodded at the three pirates, and Billy thought he saw relief in the man's eyes. "Take the boy to his bunk and check him over. Let me know when he's had enough time to eat and compose himself. I wish to speak with him about what happened to him while he was gone and what it was that he saw about Pan that scared her so."

Mullins got to his feet and pulled Billy up. The gunner swayed some, but he managed to keep his feet. "Can ya walk, lad?" Mullins asked.

"Aye, I can walk," Billy answered, tearing his eyes from Peter to look up at his friend. "A good walk across the deck, a breath of fresh air, and a bit of sunlight is all this pirate needs to make him ship-shape."

"Go below," Hook ordered, "let Mullins look you over, eat, and _then_ you can sit outside. Check Long Tom over, if you're up to it. I'll speak with you later."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," Billy replied, relieved to be saying those words again. He hadn't been afraid when he'd first found himself in the fairy castle. He'd been too busy trying to figure out what was wrong with Slightly, who strangely hadn't been able to remember their conversation the night before. And once he'd begun to re-tell the boy his story about discovering Pan was a she, the other boys had listened and chimed in with their own questions. It was when Oberon had come to see them that he'd thought he was going to die… and later seriously wanted to.

"Mr. Jukes," Hook snapped, making Billy freeze with apprehension. "Welcome back."

"Aye, Cap'n, its good to be back," Billy called, a little surprised by the welcome. He let Mullins usher him outside and instantly changed his mind about getting "a bit of sunlight." The bright glare of the afternoon sun sent nails into his eyes, forcing him to close them and let Mullins lead him below.

"Steer clear of Hook, Billy," Mullins growled. "He's been in an unpredictable temper all day. And steer clear of Pan, too. She's got a bad streak goin' on, and it's best not to let that rub off on ya."

Billy nodded, deciding that Robert's advice was sound. He appreciated Pan's help and he felt awful for her after seeing what the magic was doing to her. But he'd had quite enough of fairies and magic, and he was determined to keep away from it and anyone that used it. No matter _how_ pretty they were.

"Well, Smee?" Hook asked the old man softly. "Damage report on the girl."

"Nasty scratches on 'er neck, I'll have ta put somethin' on 'em ta clean 'em," Smee muttered. He pointed to her bloody lip, which was beginning to swell. "Bit 'er lip and that's where th' blood's comin' from, which eases me old heart." But then he shook his head. "Worst damage is to th' back o' 'er head. Nice goose-egg there, and she's likely ta have addled her wits. Won't know fer sure till we wake her, and once she's up we need ta _keep_ 'er up."

Hook lightly slapped Peter's face, trying to bring her around, but Smee grabbed his wrist. "Think th' lass's head's suffered enough, Cap'n." Ignoring Hook's scowl, he doused a cloth with whiskey and chuckled. "If this don' wake 'er, nothin' will. An' if it don't, she's hurt worse'n I thought."

Smee draped the alcohol-soaked cloth across Peter's neck. As soon as the liquid touched the scratches, the girl jerked in Hook's arms. She gave a cry of shock, her eyes fluttering open and her hands coming up to pull the cloth from her throat. The bosun intercepted her, taking her hands gently in his own and pulling them away. "Let it do its work, lass."

"Take it off," Peter moaned weakly, trying to focus her eyes on something.

"It's cleaning your wounds, Kitten," Hook said gently.

"No," she insisted, "Collar… take it off."

"It's what keeps you here, and it's what keeps you from fighting me. The collar stays around your neck," Hook answered. _Until I find out from Jukes what he saw, and then I'll decide what to do about it. I don't even know IF I can remove it._

Peter giggled softly, her eyes slipping closed. She was so tired and her throbbing head made it hard to think. "Same ol' Codfish," she murmured. "Same selfish, cruel, stuck-up ol' Codfish."

"Keep 'er awake, Cap'n," Smee warned, seeing that she was drifting off.

Hook sat Peter up, his claw arm supporting her back as she sat in his lap. Peter's head lolled forward, her chin coming to rest on her chest, so the man tilted it back before giving her earlobe a sharp pinch.

"Ow!" Peter protested, her eyes opening again. She looked at Hook's face, inches from her own. "I thought th' leash was s'posed to keep you from hurtin' me," she groused, staring at an interesting spot on the side of Hook's face.

"I only pinched you, girl," Hook chided. Her speech was becoming thicker and more slurred, and it concerned him. "Wake up, Kitten, keep your eyes open."

"Tha' had ta smart," she said, giggling again. Weakly, her hand came up to rest on his cheek, her fingers a mere inch from the stitched-up gash near his temple. "S'were I hitcha?"

"Aye," Hook replied, frowning. "You've wounded me worse, though." He felt a flare of anger at that as he once more remembered _who_ this was in his arms. She was his enemy and his prisoner and it upset him that he kept forgetting it was _this girl_ that had tormented him nonstop since he first arrived in Neverland. "You addled my wits with that chain and I'm fine now. So buck up and wake up, Pan!"

"Tired," Peter whispered, letting her fingers trail down the man's cheek and jaw to fall back into her lap. "Take a nap."

"Peter, if you don't stay awake, you could die," Hook growled, becoming frustrated.

"Don' care," she murmured, closing her eyes. They fluttered briefly when Hook pinched her again. "Sod off, 'Fish," her voice was so low that the two men barely understood her. But barely was enough to snap Hook's patience.

"Sod off?" he repeated incredulously, his anger kindling. He shook the girl roughly, making her whimper as her head rocked back and forth. "I'm trying to help you and you have the impertinence to tell me to 'sod off'? You worthless…"

"Cap'n!" Smee shouted, pulling the girl from Hook's grasp. "Yer gonna kill 'er yerself!"

Whatever hateful thing Hook was about to retort with died on his lips as Peter began to wail. Her hands came up to clutch at the back of her head even as her legs curled up against her chest, tucking herself into a small ball in Smee's arms. The throbbing in her head was unbearable, and it was an all-too-familiar pain.

"Don' hit me again! Please, don' hit me! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to break the bowl, I'm sorry! Please!" She could hear the hateful voice railing at her, calling her terrible things and blaming her existence for all his troubles. He'd hit her and all she knew was the pain. _Don't move, don't fight, let him finish and go or he'll hurt me worse,_ she remembered; but when his hand closed on her shoulder, she jerked away and screamed. There was a flash of something – not pain, more of a feeling of being suddenly cut off from the world – and lovely numb blackness enfolded her. Distantly, she heard a woman singing and she let herself drift in the darkness, the lullaby comforting her and making everything else go away.

Hook opened his eyes when Starkey began dripping the cold water on his face. He tasted blood from where he'd bitten his tongue and his whole body ached. Despite the discomfort and disorientation, he took Starkey's hand and sat up. He was about six feet from where he had previously been sitting. "By Barbecue's whiskers, what happened?" Smee sat with Pan in his arms, staring at him in shock. Peter lay limp and quiet, her face deathly pale.

"I believe you crossed the line with that collar," Starkey observed as he handed his captain a cloth to wipe the blood from his mouth. "You reached for her when she was upset and it reacted… I think."

"Ta be sure," Smee added, his voice shaky. "I felt it meself – a strange stingin' and pricklin' in me arms, comin' from th' lass. She were mighty scared from ya shakin 'er, and when ya touched 'er again, 'twas a bright flash and crack. Swearin' it were like lightnin' hit ya and threw ya back. An' now me skin's all prickly with goosebumps." He looked down at Peter and shook his head. "We lost th' wee lass, Cap'n."

"Lost her?" Hook repeated, feeling a cold hand clench his gut. He looked to Peter again, seeing how pale and still she was. _I killed her? No, don't let her have died._

Smee saw his captain's distress and saw how he stared at the girl. "Aye, Cap'n, we lost 'er. She fainted dead away when ya got hit an' there's no wakin' 'er now. We needs ta watch 'er 'till she wakes again, and try ta keep 'er up next time."

"Wakes?" Hook repeated, realizing that he was sounding a lot like his parrot. "She's alive?"

"Oh, aye," Smee answered with a small smile. "Alive, but still asea. Ya hurt 'er more, Cap'n, shakin' 'er when she'd taken a knock like that."

"Never thought I'd ever see James Hook abuse a seriously injured little girl," Starkey mumbled from across the room. He'd resumed cleaning up Jukes's vomit, and was subsequently in an unhappy mood. Unfortunately, he didn't think that anyone heard his rebellious comment.

Hook flushed at Starkey's words, but he was momentarily too relived that Pan was still alive to respond. Instead, he stood up and straightened his coat, brushing at the imaginary dust on it. "Smee, take Pan to her cabin and sit with her. If she doesn't wake in four hours, have Mullins sit with her. I want four hour rotations of watches on her until she's recovered. She isn't to be left alone for an instant and I'm to be notified if she wakes.

"Aye, aye," Smee responded. He stood slowly, lifting Peter up as he rose. The girl was somewhat taller than him now, making carrying her an awkward task. But Smee had a wiry strength to him that always surprised people, and once he had her settled in his arms he carried her with no effort.

Once the old man and his patient were gone, Hook turned to Starkey. The pirate had just finished cleaning and stood with his back to him, wiping his hands. "You showed good form and courage before that pompous pixie, Mr. Starkey," Hook said amiably, putting his claw on the surprised man's shoulder in a companionable gesture. "You made me proud."

"Thank you, Captain," Starkey answered, standing up straighter. But his heart sank when Hook jerked him close and brought the sharp tip of his claw against his throat.

"But you had best put that backbone away when speaking to or about me," Hook hissed in his ear, "else I will rip your spine out and beat your head in with it. And you will _never_ criticize how I deal with Pan again. Am I clear?"

"C-c-crystal, C-captain," Starkey stuttered, feeling a warm drop trickle down his neck from where the point had effortlessly broken his skin.

"Excellent," Hook snapped, pushing the man away. "Clean up the rest of this room, then swab _all_ the decks." With that, Hook strode out of his cabin to stand by the railing. He stared out over Neverland, glaring as if he dared its denizens to show themselves. He'd never really cared for the hellish place, but now he hated it with a passion. _Then why stay? I have my man back, and I have Pan, so why stay?_

Billy ate quietly while Mullins talked, listening to the man as he filled him in on what had happened while he was gone. From time to time the older pirate would stop speaking and just stare at him with a small smile on his lips, then shake his head and continue talking. Despite his headache, Billy felt good. _He really does love me, he missed me and he's happy I'm back._ It was wonderful to see that love and concern stamped so plainly on the man's normally sour face. For the first time since he was very small, Billy _knew_ someone loved him. He'd always known Mullins cared, and that the man liked him well enough, but to see that the man loved him was his most secret wish come true. Even the taste of Cookson's lunch-leftovers couldn't quell the insane happiness the boy felt right now.

"I missed you, Robert," Billy said when Mullins finished. "I knew I'd be back, but when they changed my eyes…" Billy shivered, "I really wanted to die and make it all go away. I thought I was going insane at first; if I _had_ gone mad, it would at least have stopped bothering me."

"Pan helped ya?" Mullins asked, remembering how Billy had called her his angel.

The gunner nodded. "Somehow she made everything look right. It was still different and made me sick, but I could understand it." He pushed the plate away and rubbed his aching head. "Shot and shale, Robert, I wish I _hadn't_ understood it, 'cause it scares the hell outta me."

"What did ya see?" Mullins asked, knowing it would help the boy to talk.

"Wait for th' Cap'n," Billy answered. "I only wanna say it once, and then I wanna forget about it."

"I'm here, Mr. Jukes," Hook announced as he strode into the room.

"Figures ya'd come in when someone said yer name," Mullins growled, still a little spooked by Hook's ability to appear whenever someone was either talking about him or doing something they didn't want him to see. For the superstitious pirate, the saying "Speak of the devil" was more than appropriate for Hook.

The captain raised his eyebrow at the man as he sat at the head of the small table. But he soon turned his attention to Billy, the reason for his visit. "I understand you've been through quite a trial, lad, which is why this once I'll give you a request instead of an order. I wish to leave Neverland as soon as we're ship-shape, so I need all of my men making repairs and gathering supplies. Are you up to returning to your duties today?"

Billy frowned, considering. "My headache won't kill me, Cap'n, and it'll be a welcome distraction to return to work. But I don't think we should leave Neverland."

"Are you questioning me, Mr. Jukes?" Hook growled.

"No, Cap'n, just advising," Billy explained hastily. "You obviously got something planned for Miss Pan, else she wouldn't still be alive right now. Mullins told me a little of what you've told the crew, so I gather you want to keep her." When Hook nodded, Billy continued. "From what I saw, I think if you leave Neverland with her, she'll die. And that's supposing that the fairies even _let_ you leave with her. They need her until they can replace her, so I doubt they'd let her go."

"What did you see, Mr. Jukes?" Hook asked. "Whatever it was, it upset you enough to goad you into brazenly attacking the fairy king. Tell me what it was."

Billy rubbed his head again. "I don't quite know how to explain it right. There's nothing in the normal world that I can compare it to… you have to see it to understand, and understanding hurts the hell out of your sanity. But I'll try. I could see magic, see it like it was something solid… and it _is_ solid, if you know how to touch it. The whole world was dark, just shades of grey… but the magic was every color and no color ever seen by mortals before." He closed his eyes a moment and shrugged helplessly. "Makes my head hurt trying to describe it. But I could see more than magic. I could see souls. I saw you, Starkey and Peter, and I saw you as souls."

"Mine was as black as pitch, I warrant," Hook muttered.

"No," Billy mused, thinking back. "Surprisingly, not. You glowed, just like Starkey. It was like seeing a ghost, or a statue made of diamond under a bright light. But Peter… I didn't know her, she looked so different. She was… radiant." Billy's eyes became distant and a dreamy smile lit his face. "The magic around her was unbelievable, like she wore robes of light. And she was a part of everyone and everything in Neverland – even part of _us_. I can't even begin to do her justice, and to try would only belittle what she is."

"And what is she?" Mullins pressed.

"She's Neverland… but that's not quite right. She's so much a part of Neverland that you can't tell where one ends and the other starts. She's magic incarnate, her breath is Neverland's wind, her blood its rivers, her mind its life. She has powers greater that any fairy's and she could destroy every man on this ship with a thought… but she doesn't. She doesn't use her power at all. She's too innocent and naïve to care about power." Billy paused, his frown deepening. "She's dying."

"The collar?" Hook supplied, remembering that Billy had pointed at it when he'd challenged Oberon. _'Take it off! It's killing her!'_

"It's cut her off from the island. Seeing it made me think of tying a rope around your arm so tight that it cuts off the blood-flow. After a bit yer arm goes numb. Keep it there and eventually it dies. But with her… she can't live without the island and it can't live without her. If feeds off her imagination, and gives her back the power inside her. And she can't live without that power… the Gift, Oberon called it. But the collar's cut the flow off between her and Neverland, and between her and everything else she was connected to, and now both her and the island are magically starving to death. But it's truly horrible to see it, it looks so painful. And the real horror is that it's not just killing her, its poisoning her _soul_. What happens to you if your very soul gets sick and dies?"

The three pirates sat in silence for a few moments in contemplation. "Nothing," Mullins murmured at last. "Nothing happens to you, 'cause then there's nothing of you left."

Hook stood, his face drawing up in anger. "I'm going to rip that damned thing off her neck."

"It's booby-trapped, Cap'n," Billy warned. "I don't know what all it does, but I know it won't let ya take it off, not without some serious magic on yer side. The king said they wouldn't let her die of it, and it's a slow death if they do. There's time yet to figure out what to do; maybe when Miss Pan wakes up she'll be able to tell us. And if one of the Lost Boys can be Pan, they'll take her power and let her go. But if you rush in there and try to do somethin' drastic, it could kill you."

Hook growled, his basic instincts warring with one another: his instinct for survival versus his protectiveness of his property. And as far as he was concerned, Pan was his property now. She'd been given to him for safe keeping, and possession was nine-tenth's of the law. After a long moment, Billy's rationality won out and the Captain sat back down at the table. _I'll wait, then. But Pan is mine, and no one will harm her but me. The collar is useful now; it keeps her under control. She won't die of it yet, and for now I'll take advantage of the control it gives me over her. Oberon promised her to me, and I'll make sure she's safe and whole when he hands her over for keeps._

"So what now, Cap'n?" Mullins asked.

"We wait until Miss Pan recovers, and we'll take it from there," Hook answered. _Other than that, I haven't the slightest clue._


	15. Sarah and Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 15

Chapter 15

She slept, and sometimes she dreamed. Oftentimes her dreams were peaceful and happy, memories of good times gone by or fantastical imaginings her mind spun. But from time to time the dreams turned ugly and mean as darker memories came forward or her imagination voiced its terrors. She'd whimper as they encroached upon her, her injured mind and exhausted nerves screaming _Please, no more!_

And every time, the nightmare was deflected. A voice would call to her from the darkness, telling her that she was safe, affirming to her that she was loved. Sometimes it was a woman that called her and she'd rush to the presence, seeking comfort. The woman would enfold her in her warm embrace and sing to her, calming her with loving caresses. The girl would sink into the motherly comfort and security and let sweet oblivion take her.

Other times it was a man's voice that came to her, and the first time he called the sound had driven her into worse nightmares – memories of how he'd hurt her. She'd tried to flee, but he'd caught her up in his arms and held her gently but firmly. He'd murmured soft words of comfort, and when the memories faded, she realized that he was crying with her. "I love you and I'm sorry," he said over and over again.

"Why?" she'd sobbed, her cry filled with desolation.

"Rest, child, just rest," he'd answered. "Rest now and when you are ready, I will tell you everything."

Exhaustion took her and she'd let herself relax into his embrace. She'd listened wistfully as he told her a story, a story that was the memory of a time when he'd taken her to ride the unicorns. It had been just the two of them, away from the stiff formality and ceremony of the court… just her and her godfather. It was one of the happiest memories she had. The sadness and fear melted as his voice sent her on to better dreams. Afterwards, every time he called to her his voice evoked the joy of that memory within her and she came to him eagerly – forgetting the nightmares as she listened to him tell her stories until better dreams enveloped her.

But sometimes she surged towards awareness and opened her eyes, awakening to reality and with it the pain and despair. Being awake was confusion, the images her eyes saw were distortions of color and shape. Voices spoke to her (she never awoke to find herself alone) and they called to her softly, asking her if she was in pain, was she thirsty, and please try to stay awake. Sometimes she answered when she understood, and every time she awakened she understood things a little better. Often, cold liquid would fill her mouth and she would swallow it greedily before the darkness came again. Other times she'd awaken to wet cloths on her head or throat. But she was tired and hurt, and despite their demands that she remain awake, she welcomed the darkness and the loving presences that were always with her there.

"There she goes again," Starkey observed as Peter's eyes slid shut. He put aside the small cup of broth and turned to look at Hook. "I got most of the cup in her this time, sir. She's staying awake longer now, but it's like she isn't even trying to remain conscious."

"How often is she awake?" Hook asked as he took the chair Starkey vacated.

"Twice my shift, the longest period being about fifteen minutes. She mumbled some during Mason's shift but didn't open her eyes," Starkey reported as he gathered the things he'd brought to the room. "It's been two days, Captain. Do you think the girl will recover?"

"She'll recover," Hook answered, touching her cheek lightly. Her color was back and her respiration more normal than the last time he'd sat with her. "Peter Pan never gives up, and it'll take more than a bump on the head to stop her. She's just been through too much trauma lately and now she's resting."

"I agree that a bump wouldn't stop her," Starkey mused, "but what of that collar? Jukes said it was killing her."

"Her wretched excuses for godparents won't let her die – not yet. They still need her to hold this accursed island together. I wager we'll see that pixie monarch again before she dies, and I think they'll do what they can to keep her alive."

"Well, that's good then," Starkey replied, "but Oberon's record speaks against him. Twice he's been aboard and twice he's nearly killed her. They say that the third time's the charm." With that final observation, Starkey took his leave and returned to his other duties.

 _They'd better see to it she lives. They promised her to me._ It alarmed him how much the idea of keeping her appealed to him, but he couldn't deny his desire. To control what was uncontrollable, to tame what was wild, to keep that which had always eluded him… to dominate an enemy that refused to surrender – it was this promise that tantalized him and had stilled his need to end her life. And with that all-consuming hatred somewhat subdued, Hook had finally been able to look at Peter Pan and realized that she was frighteningly human after all.

Hook watched Peter sleep, strange emotions stirring in his heart. She was so fragile seeming, lying there defenseless. Once he would have been delighted at seeing Pan like this: hurt, alone and helpless. He'd have put her out of her misery quick enough, and deep down a part of him still wanted to do just that. But now he also felt an awful swell of pity for her.

"Peter Pan, who and what art thou?" he whispered as he stroked her cheek with one finger. Peter stirred at his voice, turning her face towards the gentle contact. Her eyes fluttered open, fixing upon him for a moment before closing again. She gave him a small smile.

"Cap'n," she breathed.

"Yes, Pan," he answered, continuing to caress her cheek. "Can you stay awake for a little while? I have some water, if you want it."

"No," she groaned. Her hands came up, clasping his hand between them as she rolled onto her side to face him. The result was that she lay with her cheek pillowed upon their three hands. "Tell me a story," she demanded softly.

Hook blinked, caught off-guard by that strange request. He felt trapped with his hand caught between her own two small ones, even though she was so weak he could have easily pulled it free. "A story?" he repeated dumbly, casting his mind about in an effort to come up with something suitable. But then he realized that it didn't matter. She was going to go back to sleep soon anyway, and likely she just wanted a voice to reassure here that she wasn't alone. "Have you ever heard 'The Taming of the Shrew'?"

"No," she mumbled, already slipping away.

"I think it's frighteningly appropriate, considering that I intend to tame _you_. Perhaps the two of us will learn something from Petruchio and Katharine." Smiling at his own wit, Hook began to tell the story, reciting the actual lines where he remembered them. After only a few minutes he realized that Peter was asleep. Carefully, Hook disentangled his hand from her lax grip and sat back into a more comfortable position, but he continued to speak to her, entertaining himself with a play he hadn't thought about for years.

Oberon sat quietly in his chair, watching his Queen as she comforted their god-daughter. She was seated in an overstuffed rocking chair, cradling a large, multi-hued crystal in her arms. She crooned to it softly, rocking back and forth as if it were an infant. Occasionally she would caress an invisible forehead, then bend down to kiss the girl that was only there in her mind. That stone was the only magical link left to Peter; all others were being blocked by the collar. The seeing-stone was how they'd dug into her mind before and how Gloriana had communicated with her when she'd tried to defy her exile. It monitored the girl at all times, alerting the king and queen when she was distressed or in pain. And it relayed back to Peter their words and gestures, letting them interact with her as well as observe.

Finally the fairy queen sighed and the stone darkened, indicating that the contact was done and that Peter was at peace. She looked up with tired eyes and smiled at her husband. "For a pirate, James Hook can be extraordinarily maternal at times."

"That's probably the most insane thing I've ever heard," Oberon replied with a snort.

Gloriana chuckled. "Peter was awake for a short while with that Starkey fellow, the one whose sword you destroyed. She woke again not long after that, and was coherent enough to recognize and speak to Hook."

Oberon closed his eyes, relief rushing though him. "Then she'll pull through?" He kept seeing her in his memory, picturing the blood trickling from her lips and her torn throat. He'd hurt her, he hadn't intended to but he had, and he'd been terrified that he'd done her permanent harm. He kept forgetting that humans were so fragile.

"I think so, and so do the pirates. Hook was telling her a story to help her sleep, and she tried to have another nightmare. I helped keep her focused on his words long enough for her to find a better dream."

The king felt a surge of jealousy flare up, and it was with considerable effort that he quelled it. I _tell better stories and I tell them in love! When we get her off that ship, I'll make sure she forgets that Hook ever existed._ "How long should we give her, love?"

"I think she's nearly ready. She's coherent now and asking questions, so she'll be able to understand why we do what we do. Her nightmares are less frequent, too, so there's less chance of a terror taking her. Speak with her, and if she can respond to your satisfaction, then explain to her why she cannot remain our Pan."

Oberon nodded and went to his wife, helping her to stand. "It's my turn to watch over Peter. You should go see to the boys and Wendy, and then get some rest."

"How is Nibs?" Gloriana asked as she placed the stone in Oberon's arms.

"Sleeping it off. He never Saw anything at all, so he's failed the test. Slightly will go next, and I'm sure he'll fail too. My greatest hope is that Curly or Michael will be worthy – especially Michael. His dreams are often precognitive, and if he has natural Sight as I believe he does, then he is most likely to become our new Pan."

"Wendy needs more time with him first. Letting the boys see Billy suffer has made them afraid of us. We'll continue to rule out the older boys, and the younger ones will calm when they see that we won't hurt them."

Further conversation was interrupted by the chime of a soft bell. Oberon set the crystal aside and stood beside his queen, taking a moment to restore his royal bearing. "Enter," he called, his voice suggesting boredom and annoyance.

A plump, green-haired pixie woman entered the chamber, dropping into a deep curtsey to the monarchs. "Majesties," she announced, "Tinker Bell is awake and stable now, and has consented to speak with you. Her bond with the Pan is dead, so you can now question her without fear that it will force her to lie for Peter Pan."

"Is she well, healer?" Gloriana asked, knowing that severing her from Peter had been a traumatic experience for the pixie-girl.

"She is stable, but I doubt that she will ever be well or whole again. She's started speaking again and she no longer asks for death, but she is melancholy and refuses to eat."

Oberon nodded at the healer. "If she was innocent and only did what she did because her bond forced her, then she will be cared for until the new Pan is found. She'll be bound to him and she'll be whole again. But if she knew the truth before she was bonded to Peter, then she is a traitor and will be put out of her misery." The king could barely control his anger when he remembered the sloppy, dangerous layers of magic that had turned his god-child's mind into a sieve. His anger had increased tenfold when he'd discovered the same mess of spells in _all_ of the children's minds. Determined to learn the truth of why the pixie had done something so heinous, he'd broken the bond that should have joined her to Peter for life.

Gloriana dismissed the healer and glared at Oberon when they were alone once more. "It will be best if _I_ speak with Tinker Bell. If you become angry, you'll do something harsh and hateful, and likely shatter the poor girl. She's in too delicate a state right now to withstand you."

"I agree, Glory," Oberon said flatly. "If she betrayed us, then I will not coddle her. And I will show her no pity if this mess is a result of her treachery."

"It's best that we speak to her _after_ Peter recovers, then. I won't have you hurting Peter again if Tink only acted as she did because of her loyalty to her Pan."

"I won't hurt our child…"

"You have and you will!" Gloriana interrupted angrily. "You killed her on the _suspicion_ that she had betrayed us. What will you do if Tinker Bell confirms it?"

Oberon stood silent, troubled by Gloriana's blunt assessment of his volatile temper. The woman left without another word, going to see to the children. A long time passed in which he stood in silence, contemplating his wife's question, until he felt a tingling in his mind. He turned to see the seeing-stone was shimmering an angry red.

"Peter," he whispered, going to the stone and quickly settling into the chair with it cradled in his arms. He looked into the stone, letting his thoughts find Peter's, and saw that another nightmare was taking hold of her. _That collar is amplifying her fears, but it's too late to take it off._ Finding yet another regret in how he'd dealt with his god-daughter, he concentrated on her dream.

She was being chased by a man, the one she called 'Uncle', and though she didn't realize it (being too terrorized to stop fleeing and look), she had given the monster of a man her god-father's face. _I won't hurt you again, no matter what!_ he thought as he began to call her, sending her soothing words and memories. In the deepest parts of his heart, he offered a fervent prayer to the deities of his kind that Tinker Bell would tell them something that would allow him to keep his child instead of giving her to the pirate captain.

Peter drifted in contentment, feeling warm and secure in her godfather's embrace. It was like it was before her world had been turned upside down – when she had been loved by her godparents and knew that they would never harm her. Oberon had just finished telling her another story and now the two of them were embraced in silence.

"Can it all just be a bad dream?" Peter asked at last, not wanting this feeling to ever end. "Can I just wake up and be home and a boy, and you and Gloriana still love me and none of this ever happened? Please?"

Oberon's heart ached at the pleading, desperate tone. Mingled with that ache was relief – this was the most she'd communicated with them in days and her coherency gave him hope. "We still love you Peter. We'll love you whether you're a boy or a girl… even if you changed into a troll we'd still love you." What made this worse was the fact that he _could_ have granted her request. It would have been difficult, but he could make everyone either forget or remain silent about her gender. He could remove the collar (albeit carefully, the collar was unstable and dangerous) and take her home, so that when she awoke it would be like this had never happened. Tinker Bell's condition would be difficult to explain, but she could be re-bonded to Peter and, given some time, she would recover. "But we can't undo what's been done."

There was the law to consider and the danger she posed as the Pan. Covering this up wouldn't solve anything; they would still have to replace her, and the sooner it was done the safer it would be for Neverland. It was regrettable that this was going to be so much harder on Peter now than it would have been if she'd been older.

"Why don't you want me anymore? Why did you hurt me?" There was no anger behind her words now, only deep sadness and hurt.

"I shouldn't have hurt you, Peter. I was angry and I acted without thinking. And we _do_ want you. We don't like exiling you. You've been a wonderful Pan and we'd keep you always if we could. But we can't."

"Why not? Why aren't I good enough?"

Oberon sighed and kissed her cheek. "I'll tell you another story, and maybe you'll understand why, and forgive us."

"Please, tell me," Peter asked, aching with her need to make sense out of her new world.

"You aren't the first girl to be Pan," Oberon began. "There was one other, long, long ago. There had been three Pans before her: Adam, Nicholas, and Duncan. We were still learning how unpredictable magic was when used by humans – how their minds could alter it, how the changes in their bodies as they grew could twist it. When Duncan grew older and wished to go to other lands, we found a new Pan in a pretty little girl named Sarah. Gloriana was ecstatic at having a god-daughter, and we spoiled the child rotten." He smiled as he remembered, missing the girl terribly. It still hurt to remember her.

"Sarah Pan lived in Neverland for many years and we never had a reason to think anything was different about her. It wasn't until she was grown up that we were nearly undone.

"You've been called the 'Eternal Youth' and it's true to a point. So long as you sojourn in the fairy realm, you will never grow old. But even here in Neverland you can still grow up. Most Pans pass through puberty in Neverland, and it's shortly after that that they grow restless and seek to leave this cradle of an island. But not Sarah. She grew into a beautiful young woman, but she was content to remain here with us.

"'Fine,' we thought, 'all the better for her to stay.' We loved her dearly and Neverland was none the worse for having an adult Pan. She still dreamed and believed, and that was all that mattered.

"But she fell in love with a young man, one of her childhood companions that had grown up in Neverland with her. She became pregnant and all of Neverland bloomed with excitement in anticipation of the coming baby."

"Pregnant?" Peter echoed. "What's that?"

Oberon showed her an image, one that illustrated how a baby grew in its mother's womb before being born. He didn't show her how it was conceived or how it was born, and mercifully Peter was too amazed to think of asking. Gloriana would be better suited to explain human procreation.

"But even in Neverland, sometimes bad things happen. We didn't know something was wrong until it was too late. Aaron, Sarah's husband, was killed in an accident. Sarah herself was also injured, but the worst damage to her was to her womb and the baby within it. She miscarried – that means that her baby died before it was born. And when the child inside her ceased, Neverland also began to cease.

"Once we knew to look, it became obvious to us what had happened. When Sarah became pregnant, her magic became a part of the baby. The more the child developed, the more the Gift became a part of it. Neverland itself became attached to the child and began to change… if born, the child would have _become_ Neverland, the island just as much an extension of it as an arm or a leg. The gift would have belonged to it by birthright, to be passed down through the generations of Sarah's child's bloodline. It would have passed out of fairy control and our fates would rest solely on the continuation of those generations.

"When the unborn child died, the power of the Gift began to fail and Neverland started to die. Sarah was devastated by the loss of both her husband and child, and was seriously injured and weak from the miscarriage. But she was able to reclaim the Gift and used its power to re-bond herself to Neverland. But neither she nor the island recovered. When we found a new Pan, she passed the Gift on without a word. Neverland was reborn under David Pan, and Sarah, her duty fulfilled, passed away."

"Why did she die?" Peter asked, feeling awful for the poor, tragic girl.

"She missed her husband and her child, so she killed herself to rejoin them," Oberon whispered, a wave of grief for his long-lost god-daughter overwhelming him. Peter likewise remained silent, thinking about the story.

"We swore it would never happen again," Oberon said at last. "We'd seen the dangers of having a girl-Pan. We nearly lost everything when the child died, but Sarah salvaged the gift and saved the Never-fey. But if her child had been born… there would have been no salvation for Neverland then. The baby would have been the Pan by birth, and only could have passed it on by having a child of its own. We would no longer choose our Pan and have no recourse if the new Pan was undesirable. And if a Pan failed to procreate, the gift would die out with the failing of the line and most of my race would die with it. So never again was there to be a girl-Pan, and by consent of the High Fey it was made into law. And now that we know you to be female, we must replace you with a boy before it's too late."

Oberon fell silent, his tale ended, and waited for Peter's response. He felt the girl tense up and pull away a little, which confused him. He expected her to express her understanding now that she had been told. He was disappointed.

"That's it?" Peter said at last, disbelief and a touch of outrage in her tone.

"Yes, that's the story," Oberon affirmed, a little off-balance.

"You're going to take everything away from me and exile me, for that?" Peter shouted, incredulous. "Because a long time ago one other girl's baby died? It was _your_ fault! You didn't care enough to even bother _thinking_ about what the magic might do to a baby, much less think to _check_ , and when it died you blamed the mess on _Sarah?_ For being a girl?"

"That's not what…" Oberon began, but Peter pushed away and turned on him, screaming.

"Maybe some of it was her fault. She should have sensed what was happening. But with a whole other person growing inside her, she probably felt too strange to notice her magic being pulled away. But she didn't know what was right or wrong and she probably trusted _you_ to tell her if something wasn't right! And I can only imagine how horrible it must have been for her to have to take her magic from her dead child to save the necks of selfish, heartless fairies!

"But the worst part of your story is how insulting it is," she said in a suddenly cold voice. "Just because it happened once, you assume it will happen again. Do you have so little faith in me? Did it never cross your mind that with a little warning, I could _not_ make the same mistakes? You could have looked out for me! You could have told me what not to do and why! But no! You've condemned me for something I haven't done, that _I'm_ _not even_ _old enough to do!_ "

"That law was made by ones much older and wiser than you, little girl," Oberon snapped. He was upset by Peter's accusations and irritated that a mere child dared to question him.

"It was made by pompous pixies that can't even See their own magic!" Peter snapped back, deeply hurt by her godparents' complete lack of faith in her – faith they'd promised her long ago.

"It was your duplicity that forced an early resolution to this," Oberon yelled, furious now. "If you hadn't lied to us, we could have trusted you to remain on the island until a boy-Pan was found!"

"If I hadn't lied to you, you never would have looked twice at me and I'd have died a beggar in London!" Peter screamed, too furious to realize a memory was coming forth. The fight that was brewing between them was suddenly interrupted by a voice, and Peter froze as she recognized and remembered the boy speaking to her.

"I'm sorry, Pete," the voice said weakly. Peter and Oberon turned with a gasp, seeing the memory. A red-haired teen lay on the ground, looking like he'd been badly beaten. A large red blood-stain covered his shirt, and blood likewise trickled from his mouth in large quantities. A child sat beside him, holding her hands over the boy's wound and crying. It was a much younger Peter, wearing boy's clothing and sporting a split lip and black eye.

"Hush, Liam, they'll hear you," Peter urged the boy. "They'll come back and kill you sure."

"Dead already, Pete," Liam groaned. "Jus' to stupid ta know when ta quit. Ma always said I'd come to a bad end."

"No," Peter snapped, "don't die Liam. Don't leave me alone here. I need you. I love you."

Liam raised a weak hand and touched her cheek. "Love ya too, hon. I'm sorry I failed ye. I shouldn'a put me hands on ya…"

"Liam…"

"Lemme finish, girlie," Liam croaked, "Fer once lemme finish what I mean ta tell ye. 'Member what I've taught ya… tell me th' rules back straight."

"Trust no one but yourself," Peter said dutifully, brushing away a tear and leaving a smudge of blood on her face, "There's nothing for free; always have a way out; fight for what's yours or someone will always come to take it."

"And yer number one rule?"

"Pee standing up," the girl answered with a chuckle, tears streaming down her face.

"Aye, lass… keep yer secret safe… and stay away from that lot, they knows yer a lass now and they'll try agin ta rape ya if they finds ya…" the boy's breath caught for a moment, and an expression of agony crossed his features.

"You should'a let them have me," Peter moaned. "I'd have let them have me if I'd known they'd kill you over it."

"Swore I'd protect ya," Liam muttered. "Ya shared with me square an' Liam McClellan keeps his promises."

"Yes, Liam, you kept all your promises."

"Will ya tell me now?" he whispered, the world dimming around him. "Tell me yer real name, so's I can tell th' angels who I'm waitin' on?"

Peter bent down, laying her cheek to his as she whispered her true name into his ear.

"'Tis a lovely name," Liam murmured, "I should like to have called ya by it in better times…. Keep sharp, lass, and stay Peter 'till yer old enough ta hold yer own. There's worse out there than what's killed me ta get to ya."

"I will Liam, I promise. No one else will ever know I'm a girl."

"Love ya, Pete," Liam whispered, his last words spoken on Earth.

"Love you too, Liam," Peter replied. When his breath stopped not long after and he opened his eyes no more, she threw back her head and screamed.

And she awoke screaming, her hands fisted against the sides of her head and her knees tight against her chest. She screamed until her throat felt torn, and then she sobbed, her grief at the memory as raw as it had been when she'd lived it for real.

Hook held her while she screamed, just as he'd held her when she'd been thrashing and talking in her sleep. He sat on the bed with her curled in his arms, rocking her awkwardly as her screams turned to wails. Smee sat on the bed next to him, his hands fluttering helplessly as he tried to think of something useful to do. Mullins stood in the doorway, the rest of the crew behind him in the corridor, wondering what the noise was about.

Hook continued to rub her face and hair, trying to soothe her from whatever nightmare she'd been having. At one point she finally opened her eyes and saw him, and to the man's astonishment Peter threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly. Hook stiffened in surprise at the unexpected reaction, but he soon resumed his efforts to calm her. When Smee passed a handkerchief to her, she took it and blew into it loudly. Hook felt a surge of gratitude to the bosun for that gesture, knowing Peter likely would have used his shirt instead.

When Peter's cries tapered off, Mullins nodded and left, shooing the other pirates away and closing the door behind him. At long last, Peter stopped crying and sat in Hook's arms silently, occasionally wiping her red and swollen face with the damp cloth.

"Feel better, lass?" Smee asked at last, breaking the quiet.

"No," Peter said softly. "I'm tired, but I've had enough of sleeping. Please help me stay awake, Captain." _I'm tired of memories, and I'm tired of Oberon. I just want them to stay out of my head! Why won't they just leave me alone?_

"I'll help you," Hook answered, pulling the girl back so she could sit on his leg and see him. She swayed, still weak, so he put an arm behind her to steady her. "When you've composed yourself, you should try to eat something and get your strength back. Perhaps a walk on deck and some fresh air will revive you."

Peter smiled faintly. "I'd like that." Her head pounded with pain, but she'd endure anything right now to stay awake.

Hook nodded, pleased to see his charge aware and coherent. "Allow me to escort you, then. You took quite a knock on the head and I'm worried that you won't make it." With the bosun's help, Peter stood on her own long enough for Hook to get to his feet and offer her his arm. She took it without hesitation, realizing she needed the support and not quite caring where she got it. Together, they made their way outside.


	16. Price of Protection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Billy watched Peter surreptitiously while he cleaned Long Tom. It was hard to believe that someone who'd been screaming and crying so much just a few hours ago could be so calm now. And Pan could scream fit to raise the dead, it had sent shivers down his spine earlier to hear her. It was also odd seeing her awake. He'd only seen her occasionally while she'd been unconscious, and that was when he was fetching for whichever man was on duty. Hook had declared him too young to be responsible for caring for an injured girl - a decision Billy had thought was ridiculous but hadn't complained about. He found himself agreeing more and more with Mullins: magic was unnatural and evil, and it was best to stay far away from it and anyone that used it.

Now, more than ever, he felt drawn to Peter Pan. When she'd been posing as a boy, Billy had felt an attraction to her – but it had been easy to ignore. He'd simply focused on how unnatural liking another boy was, picturing Mullins's look of disgust, and blamed the whole thing on Peter. Anger was easier that way, and it made it simpler for him to want to help Hook capture the kid. Then he'd seen her as a girl and his perspective had changed – a lot. He wasn't afraid to feel attracted to her and he'd found that he actually wanted to get to know her better. He'd wanted to be nice to her and had actually felt a little protective of her when she'd seemed so lost and alone in her cell. And he'd wanted her to like him back, strangely enough, but not really anything more than that. She was a kid, younger even than Slightly, and not likely to ever get older, being the Eternal Youth and all.

Not anymore, though. She'd changed quite a bit and he couldn't help noticing the changes… repeatedly… every time he glanced her way. Somehow, she'd gotten a whole lot prettier when she'd gotten taller. Billy now understood some of Mason's comments about women when he contemplated the new curves her body had developed. He wanted to be close to her, wanted her to smile at him… he thought he might like to kiss her. But every time she glanced at him, he felt the blood rush to his face and he'd duck his head and pretend to be busy doing something else. He wanted to be so close to her, and yet he was so afraid of her- afraid of the magic within her. He'd seen her soul, the magic around her, and he'd seen what she was capable of. It frightened him, knowing all that was sitting right there not a dozen steps from him. _Is it possible to want to touch someone so much, and yet want to keep as far away from them as possible? Or have I gone mad?_ Judging from the conflicting emotions he felt when he looked at the girl, he thought that if he wasn't mad yet, he would be shortly.

Peter, meanwhile, sat on the small pile of blankets and pillows, oblivious to the gunner's internal battle of hormones and self-preservation. She was oblivious to most everything else at the moment, her attention focused on the man she couldn't quite call her mortal enemy any more.

"Stop calling me that," she growled, her eyes squinted against the bright sunlight.

"Say please and I'll consider your request," Hook answered as he sat facing her beneath the shade of the mainsail. He held out a bonnet to her. "Put this on, Kitten… I know you think it looks silly, but it will block more of the glare and ease your eyes."

Peter snatched the bonnet and pulled it over her head forcefully. "Please, stop calling me 'Kitten'!"

The captain smiled and nodded his head. "No, I think 'Kitten' suits you. Until you can supply me with a more suitable name, I'll continue to use this one, Kitten."

"My name is Peter."

Hook arched his eyebrow at her. "I refuse to believe that any mother would name her daughter 'Peter'. Perhaps if you recall your real name, I'd be inclined to use it." Peter narrowed her eyes at him but remained silent. "Very well, Kitten it is."

"I'm not a pet," the girl growled, tying the bow beneath her chin to hold the bonnet on. Hook was right, it did help block some of the glare, but whatever gratitude she may have shown the man was overridden by his annoying use of the nickname she'd somehow acquired.

"Actually, you're very much like a pet right now," Hook answered. "I'm feeding, clothing, and sheltering you, and you aren't doing a thing to earn your keep."

"Just remember, kittens have teeth and claws," Peter warned.

"And they wear collars," Hook retorted. He regretted that barb in the instant he said it. Peter's head dropped and her hand crept up to the scabs on her neck. He noticed that she was shaking ever so slightly. "Don't touch them," he said gently, pulling her hand away from her throat. "If you pick at them, they'll take longer to heal and they'll scar." She looked up at him and he saw that she was on the edge of crying again. "How is your head? Is it getting better?" he asked lamely, trying to distract her.

"Its better," she replied, fighting the tears welling in her eyes. She was thoroughly sick of crying, and was determined not to do it anymore. "I'm not so sleepy anymore, either. Being outside is helping, and so's the coffee." She grimaced, averting her eyes in embarrassment. "Thank you… for earlier. I don't think I could have handled waking up alone." Her face burned, shame filling her for giving Hook the satisfaction of hearing her thank him. But they'd agreed to get along, and a part of getting along was being civil to one another. Then she thought of Wendy, knowing the girl would have been happy to hear her say that, and she felt some of her shame leave her. As long as Hook was being helpful, she could be pleasant to the man.

Hook beamed at Peter, pleased that she was showing a semblance of manners without him having to force her. _There is hope for her yet._ "You're very welcome, Miss Pan. My men and I have been with you the entire time, so there was no chance that you'd awake to find yourself alone."

Peter snorted. "I bet your men loved that – babysitting Peter Pan. How much did you have to threaten them?"

"Jukes!" Starkey yelled, stomping out onto the deck. "I say, chap, are you quite done with my sword? I can't fight with this common cutlass."

Billy looked at the man and shrugged. "Can't forge you a new one yet, Starkey. I need more wood for the forge and some steel. Unless you want me to make it outta one of those old cutlasses… I thought a trip to the fair might get us some finer steel, your old blade was good quality."

The gentleman turned to Hook. "Captain? Will you allow a shore party to gather the supplies Jukes needs?"

Hook nodded his assent. "Aye, a raid is just what you dogs need to stretch your legs now that Miss Pan is up and about. We'll go tomorrow morning, when the vendors are still well stocked. Smee will keep watch while we're gone, and keep our guest company."

"Does Kitten want anythin' while we're out?" Mason teased, leering at the girl.

Peter bristled, insulted and furious, but she didn't have to worry about defending her own pride. Hook was up and across the deck in an instant, and Peter didn't think she'd ever seen the man move so fast. In another instant, Mason was off his feet, dangling from the vice-like grip Hook had on his throat, his hands clutching at the man's arm as he strangled.

"Mr. Mason," Hook said coldly, his eyes flaming with anger, "I will only say this once, and all the rest of you mongrels had better listen close. You will address her as Miss Pan at all times, until she sees fit to give you permission to be less formal with her. As her caretaker, only I have the right to use a term of endearment with her, so only I will refer to her in that manner. You will be respectful and courteous to her, as you would to any other guest aboard this ship. Anyone else that presumes otherwise will get two dozen with the cat." He dropped the man suddenly, and Mason hit the deck gasping for breath and coughing. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear, sir!" Starkey said quickly, backing away. The other men echoed his words hurriedly. Mason, his throat too abused to speak, merely nodded and crawled away from Hook.

"Excellent," Hook hissed, giving them all a glare. When he was satisfied he'd made his point, he returned to where he'd been sitting with Peter and gave her a smile. "My apologies, Pan, for Mr. Mason's rudeness. If any of my men become too fresh with you, please let me know and I will take care of it."

"I don't need you taking up for me, Captain," Peter huffed. "I may be a girl, but I'm still the one that got the best of you and your men every time." She saw Hook's smile fade and his face darken and she sighed. _Be nice, he's all you've got right now,_ she reminded herself. "But thank you for your concern, Captain. I just think I'll start feeling better if I could have some kind of control over my life." She frowned but kept her gaze locked on Hook's. "Oberon's taken everything from me. I'm not used to relying on others to take care of me and to make decisions for me, but that's what's happening now. I don't like it. What good am I if I can't take care of myself?"

Hook felt his annoyance at the girl slip away as he considered her explanation. He could understand her frustration. Peter Pan the boy had been free to go where he wished, when he wished, and to do what he wanted at all times (except when Wendy's nagging got to him). He'd been beholden to no one and the leader of his band of children. But, exposed as a girl, she was a prisoner aboard this ship and nothing about her life now was of her choosing. Every aspect of her existence was now determined by two men: Oberon, who had loved her and betrayed her, and Hook, who had hated her and was her only hope. _It's_ _poetic justice at its finest, but I can sympathize with how hard this is on her. But that's not to say she didn't have any of this coming._

"My dear," he said sweetly, patting her gently on the knee, "you have been through too much lately to be expected to fend for yourself. You've been unconscious for three days and only awake for a few hours. Sit back, relax, and don't worry about anything for the present. Do you _really_ feel up to the challenge of taking on any of my men right now?"

Given the pounding in her head and her current depression, Peter decided that she had to agree with the man. She could barely deal with Hook himself as it was. "I suppose not," she mumbled, taking a drink of water. She watched Starkey as he talked to Jukes, noticing that they seemed to be discussing the sword the boy was to make. "Why does Starkey need a new sword?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Your godfather turned his to ash," Hook answered.

"Why?"

"I suppose it's because he had it pointed at the pixie's nose," Hook chuckled, enjoying the mystified expression on the girl's face.

"Oh," Peter answered, staring at Starkey and trying to imagine that scene. "Um, why was it pointed at Oberon?"

"Starkey was protecting you," Hook explained. At Peter's disbelieving stare, he elaborated. "When you panicked and Oberon tried to grab you, the collar reacted. The magic's force blew you two apart, and you knocked yourself out when you hit the wall. Oberon came for you again, but Gentleman Starkey blocked his path to protect you from further attack. Oberon destroyed his sword, but Starkey made him see reason and he left you alone."

"No, he didn't," Peter murmured. "He just came at me from a different route." She thought back to the Oberon's story of Sarah Pan and his reason why he was replacing her. "How old do I have to be to be pregnant?"

Hook gaped at the girl, shocked speechless by her question. If there was one thing he'd _never_ expected to hear coming out of Pan's mouth, this was it. So stunned was he that he didn't even hear Jukes and Smee begin giggling.

"Miss Pan, really!" Starkey gasped. "That is an entirely inappropriate question to ask a gentleman!"

Peter looked around in confusion, bewildered by the pirates' reactions. "Well, perhaps I should ask Mr. Smee. I bet Mr. Mullins would tell me."

"You'll do no such thing!" Hook barked, the idea of Mullins explaining such intimate things to the girl an affront to his sensibilities. _Not to mention the fact that Mullins would likely fill her head with nonsense. By Barbeque's bootstraps!_ he thought in despair as a realization came to him. _I have a pubescent girl on my ship. What_ other _facts of womanhood will I have to explain to her as she grows?_ Sending her to an Indian woman for tutelage wasn't an option, but he did consider sending his men to go fetch one.

"Yer not quite old enough yet, lass, but if it's a wee bairn ya want, ye'll be old enough soon," Smee answered, chuckling. "Another year or so, and ye could."

Peter paled and crossed her arms over her abdomen. "I don't want to be pregnant. It seems like it should hurt… how does the baby get out, anyway?" Billy began howling with laughter, tears streaming down his face as he leaned against Long Tom for support. Peter scowled at the boy, angry at being laughed at. "Oh, and I suppose _you_ know all about it, Jukes! Instead of laughing your ugly head off at me for not knowing, why don't your impress me with the answer?" But the boy merely cackled harder. Peter looked around and saw that everyone but Starkey and Hook were also laughing, doubled over with the force of their guffaws.

"It's not funny," she whispered, anger and embarrassment at her ignorance making her shake. She glanced at Hook, but the man was frowning and staring off, lost in thought. Starkey was scowling at the other men and muttering about impropriety. _I won't just sit here and let them laugh at me,_ she decided. She stood quickly, her heart hammering in her head at the sudden motion, but she ignored it and headed for the hatch, intent on returning to her room.

"Shut it, you witless hyenas," Hook growled at last. He turned to Peter and realized with a start that she was gone. "Pan?" he called. "Where is she?"

The men sobered up and looked around, frowning and shrugging helplessly. Starkey snorted and spoke up. "I dare say it's a good thing that she's wearing that collar, or the Captain and I would be the only two men left alive on this ship." He fingered his neck, thinking back to when she'd tried to strangle him. "I think nothing upsets Pan more than being laughed at, and the whole lot of you have gone and done just that."

"I wasn't laughing at her," Billy protested, "I was laughing at th' look on th' Cap'n's face…" he realized the danger of admitting that and ducked behind Long Tom.

Hook wasn't paying attention to Jukes, which was fortunate for the gunner. "Where did she go, Starkey?" he asked as he got to his feet.

"Below, sir. She looked so upset that I didn't have the heart to stop her."

"Heaven help me if she's crying again," Hook muttered as he went below to find her. When he reached the door to her cabin, he knocked softly.

"Go away, Codfish," the girl's voice called sulkily.

"I hope you're decent, Kitten, because I'm coming in," he warned as he tried to turn the latch. The handle stopped halfway and refused to budge further, despite Hook's violent attempts to turn it. "Pan, unlock this door or I'll break it down!"

"Go away! I won't be laughed at!"

"I wasn't laughing!" he bellowed, heaving his shoulder against the wood. The door shuddered and groaned, and at his second lunge, the chair that Peter had propped against it flew across the room. Hook strode into the cabin, eyes flashing angrily. He saw Peter sitting at the head of her bed, crammed into a corner with her legs pulled up under her skirt and her arms wrapped around her knees. She glared at him angrily, her cheeks flaming.

"Don't you EVER lock me out of a room again," Hook snarled, clenching his fist. "I ordered you to unlock the door and you defied that order."

"So punish me then," Peter said quietly. "How about a dozen with the cat?" She noticed his clenched fist and smirked, "Or just hit me now. Grown men do like to hit, don't they?"

"You know I can't strike you," Hook growled, forcing his hand to uncurl. "But I _can_ lock you in here with no supper. And I _know_ you'd hate it if I took the light."

"I don't care," Peter retorted, looking away. "At least then I wouldn't have a bunch of pirates laughing at me. How am I supposed to know about stuff like being pregnant? I don't have anyone to tell me! I'm not stupid."

Hook sat on the foot of the bed and considered the girl. "No, you're not stupid, and I'll hide any of those men that tell you otherwise. You've bested me far too often for me to _ever_ make the mistake of thinking you stupid. Forgetful, perhaps, but far from stupid." He saw some of the tension leave her and felt encouraged. "And I wouldn't expect you to know anything about feminine matters… it's a topic passed down from mother to daughter, and you didn't even know you were a girl two weeks ago."

"And I have no mother to tell me," Peter added, giving Hook a sad smile. "Even before I forgot myself, I had no mother to tell me. Will _you_ tell me?"

Hook cleared his throat and pulled at the neck of his shirt, suddenly uncomfortable. "I think that is a subject you should discuss with a woman, Kitten. But I will tell you this: you are not old enough to become pregnant, so you needn't worry about it. Besides," he continued, "you have to be married first."

"Oh," Peter said, a small smile of relief blooming on her lips. "So as long as I don't get married, I have nothing to worry about?"

"Not quite… trust me, Kitten, you're still too young. And when you're old enough to know, I'll see too it that someone appropriate explains it to you." He leaned towards her, frowning. "Why is it that you want to know about pregnancy? It's certainly not a question I ever expected you to ask."

"It's why my godparents don't want me to be the Pan anymore," Peter explained, her voice bitter. "They're afraid I might become pregnant."

"However did you come to that conclusion?" Hook asked, mystified. It certainly seemed a ridiculous reason for putting this child through the hell of the past week that she'd gone through.

"They talk to me sometimes. The collar lets them get into my mind and talk to me or make me remember things. When I was hurt, they were with me, like you and your men were with me here. Just before I woke up this morning, Godfather told me a story." She found that she wanted desperately to talk to someone, to tell a sympathetic ear what she'd been told and to have that person tell her that she was right for feeling so betrayed. It depressed her to realize that the only person who could fill that role was Hook… but he'd been there for her when she woke earlier, and she remembered how comforting it had been in his arms. Deciding that however she'd felt about him in the past, he was her only ally now, Peter explained to Hook everything that Oberon had told her. She recited it perfectly, impressing herself with how well she'd remembered it. She generally forgot pieces of stories or mixed them up with parts of other stories, but, like the memories she regained while wearing the collar, Oberon's tale remained clear and sharp in her mind.

Hook listened in silence, noticing the anger and bitterness that edged her tone. When her story was complete and she sat quietly in the corner, he looked at her and frowned. "That's it?" he asked in disbelief. When Peter nodded her head, he reached for her and clasped her shoulder with his hand. "All of this torment, your exile from the island, your near death, having your friends ripped from you, nearly driving my gunner mad… all because they were afraid a ten-year-old would become pregnant? Are they mad?"

Peter shrugged, but not hard enough to indicate she wanted Hook to remove his hand. "I asked him that. He said it was because I lied, and that they couldn't trust me. He said if I hadn't lied, they wouldn't have done things this way. I could have lived in Neverland and stayed happy until the new Pan was found, instead of the collar and exile. But," her eyes began to tear again and she closed them in an effort to fight it, "but if I hadn't lied, they never would have wanted me to begin with!"

Hook couldn't find his handkerchief, so he handed her the edge of her blanket. "Is that why you were hysterical when you awoke, Peter? Because he upset you?"

Peter shook her head. "No, I remembered someone when we started arguing. The memory upset me… when I remember things like that, it's like I'm living them all over again. I watched Liam die all over again."

"Liam?" Hook repeated, recognizing that name from one of her nightmares several days ago. "Who was Liam?"

"Please, Captain, I don't want to talk about it," Peter said softly, hugging herself in misery. "It's too much too soon… it's like he died only this morning, and he was almost a brother to me."

"I understand," Hook answered, smiling. He was insanely curious to unravel her mystery, to lay her past bare and discover, perhaps, how she had become the wondrous annoyance that had been the target of his rage for so long now. And, based on the terrors of her nightmares and memories, he thought that if there was one way to break her completely, recovering her past was surely a way to do it. _Perhaps she doesn't have to be broken for me to change her. She's changing with every memory and with every encounter with her godparents. Already she is so different that I scarcely recognize her as Peter Pan._

He studied her intently, relishing the gaze she fixed upon him. There was still defiance in her eyes, independence and strong will too, and he didn't want that strength crushed out of her; he just didn't want her directing it against _him_. But what made him truly smile was the hesitant hopefulness she exhibited, the way she unconsciously shifted towards him when he spoke, the small, grateful smiles she surely didn't realize she was giving him. She was warming up to him, coming to trust and depend on him, and he loved it. _She's tired and hurt, and that's the only reason I can see it. When she's feeling better, she'll hide her feelings better, but I know they're there._

His hand crept from her shoulder to cup the side of her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. Peter flinched and tried to draw away, but the man merely pulled her back. "I won't press you, Kitten, if it's painful for you to remember. But I _do_ want to hear everything you learn about yourself, and I believe it would help you to talk about it." His gaze shifted to the collar about her neck, and he ran his fingers across it, mindful not to touch her injured skin. A flush spread across her face and he suppressed a grin. Very _sensitive… those scratches are probably more painful than they look._

"If your godparents muck about in your mind and give you more nightmares, come find me. I don't want you enduring those terrors alone, and I don't care what time of night it is." He withdrew his hand, knowing he'd made her uncomfortable. She was more receptive to him when she was rattled, it seemed, and she was definitely less defiant.

Peter pulled away when Hook released her, feeling the heat in her face as a contrast against the cold lump in her stomach. "Thank you, Captain," Peter said, hating how shaky her voice was. "But I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't touch me like that again. It's too familiar."

Hook feigned shock and chagrin. "My apologies, Miss Pan. I was merely trying to comfort you."

"Liam used to do that to me," Peter mumbled, "he would touch me like that, too. I don't like it, it's too familiar and it leads to other touching."

"Other touching?" Hook repeated, affronted. "What do you mean by 'other touching'?"

Peter's arms crossed her chest and she looked away. "I don't want to talk about it."

But Hook wasn't deterred. "This Liam you remember, how familiar with you did he get?" he pressed. He didn't like the look of shame that was now firmly affixed on her face, and he felt dread knot his insides. _Surely he didn't…_

"Not as familiar as he wanted," she answered softly, "but more than I liked. It was the price for his protection."

"Price?" Hook growled, standing as his face contorted with outrage. His anger only increased when he considered how old she must have been at the time. "That villainous, disgusting…" he sputtered, unable to find a word in his vast vocabulary that could adequately express how much he despised this man named 'Liam', "lecherous… vile…. Gall and brimstone!"

Peter jumped to her feet, pointing her finger accusingly at Hook as she angrily came to her dead friend's defense. "You have no RIGHT to say anything about him! You didn't even know him! He was my FRIEND! He took care of me when no one else would, he saved my life more times than I could count, and he taught me everything he could to help me survive!"

She began to shake from the memories, more than eight months of her previous life clamoring for her attention. She'd been able to ignore it before, still disoriented and achy from her long sleep, but now that she'd called it forth the images refused to stop. "He DIED for me!" she screamed, her hands covering her face as she sank to her knees. "He died for me and I forgot him," she continued more softly, her voice filled with grief. "How could I forget him? What's wrong with me?"

Hook stared at the girl, stunned by her outburst. That there were men who would take advantage of a child in that manner was no surprise to him. Knowing that Peter had been touched by one of those monsters _was_ a surprise, and not only did it deeply offend him, it sent him into a protective rage that startled him with its intensity. If this Liam were to suddenly appear before him, Hook would have castrated the man and shoved his mutilated member someplace interesting. But to hear the girl defend Liam so vehemently, to see her so grief-stricken at the memory of his death… it pulled him from his rage and sent him to thinking. He _was_ going to hear this story, but not today. Today he was going to keep her distracted and let her get her self-possession back.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Pan," Hook assured her as he knelt before her. "Remember what Oberon told you: Tinker Bell has been using spells on you to make you forget. It's not your fault you've forgotten things that were important to you. I apologize for making you uncomfortable and for insulting your friend." He refrained from touching her again, but remained close. "I don't believe that any man has any business touching a young girl in an intimate manner, but perhaps I've misunderstood what you meant. And if he was your protector and caregiver, then I am doubly sorry for insulting his memory." _But I don't care if he gave you every comfort in the world. He had no right to molest a child and I sincerely hope that isn't what he did to you._

Peter nodded at Hook's apology but she didn't speak, too upset to trust her voice. She avoided looking at him, too afraid that her shame or anger would crack the fragile hold she had on herself.

"You need fresh air, child, and some peace and quiet. Come back to the main deck and sit. I'll see to it that no one bothers you."

"Not even you?" Peter asked, and it reassured her to hear that her voice didn't waver.

"Not even me," Hook agreed, holding out his arm. He didn't smile when the girl took it and let him escort her outside, but it did reassure him that he hadn't undone the progress he'd made with her. He got her resettled on her pillows and let her be for the rest of the day, trusting in Smee to provide her with whatever she needed and to keep her entertained.

And the old man did just that, bringing her food and water when she asked, taking her to the head when she needed to go, and sitting with her off and on, telling her stories or showing her how to sew. Peter didn't really want to learn stitching, but when she saw that the old man was proficient at it and heard that the other men also could mend their own clothes, she didn't mind being taught. The rest of the time she spent napping or staring quietly at the island that was no longer her home, grieving for it and everything else in her life that she'd loved and lost.


	17. Innocence Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Peter sat in her bed and stared at the candlelight flickering against the glass that protected it. _I can't believe I'm afraid of the dark,_ she thought in disgust. But she had to admit to herself that the thought of that light going out made her stomach lurch. _It's not the dark… it's just easier to imagine things in the dark. I_ am _afraid of the memories._ That reasoning helped soothe her injured pride, so once more she lay back and tried to go to sleep. But try as she might, the image of the red-haired boy continued to haunt her, denying her sleep.

 _I give up!_ she thought at long last, swallowing her disgust at what she was going to do. She pulled her old boots on, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and made her way to the deck. Mullins was on night-watch, and he merely nodded to her when he saw her up and about. She gave him a slight smile in response and tentatively continued to the door of Hook's cabin. She'd suspected he'd still be awake, and by the glow seeping from under his door she had been correct. _I don't need him,_ she thought rebelliously, but she raised her hand and knocked.

"What!" the voice bellowed from within, Hook's voice tinged with more than a trace of irritation.

"I knew I was just being an idiot," she growled softly, turning on her heel to go back to her room. She made it three steps before the door behind her swung open.

"Pan?" Hook snapped, surprise lifting most of the annoyance he'd felt. He had thought it was Smee again, the old blighter never knew when to leave him alone sometimes, always asking if there was something his Captain needed. This girl was the last person he'd expected to be knocking on his door past midnight. "What do you want?"

"Nothing from you, Codfish," Peter answered, hastening her steps without looking back. _Stupid, weak-willed, idiotic…GIRL! What was I thinking?_

Hook frowned. "Miss Pan, come back here this instant." He waited patiently while Peter froze, indecisive, both of them waiting to see if she'd obey. He wasn't terribly surprised when she turned around and made her way back, but he was confused by the way her eyes glared at the boards and the light flush on her cheeks. When she paused just outside his threshold, he stood aside and gestured for her to enter.

"I shouldn't have come," she growled, walking to the middle of his room, clutching the blanket tightly.

Hook closed the door and returned to his comfortable chair. He directed her to take one across from him, and once she sat down he did the same. "So why _did_ you come, then?"

Peter shifted self-consciously, not looking up at the man. "Couldn't sleep," she muttered.

"I'm hardly surprised, Kitten, considering how much you've been sleeping lately. But why did you knock on my door?"

Peter didn't answer. She just sat there, staring at her hands as she asked herself that very same question. The answer was an easy one, but she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud, and especially not to Hook… but she couldn't think of a lie that sounded even remotely convincing.

After waiting for a seeming eternity, Hook rubbed his temple, frustration and annoyance welling up again. "Fine then. If you don't have a reason, even a poor one, then go. If you can't sleep, I'm sure Mullins will keep you company. I don't have the patience for your nonsense."

"No!" Peter's head came up, fearful eyes locking on the captain. "I can't… I have to… I keep seeing him when I close my eyes." Her fists clenched the edges of her blanket, the knuckles white.

Hook nodded, seeing the need to speak in her eyes. He was suddenly painfully aware of how desperate Pan must be right now for her to willingly seek him out for comfort. The gloating triumph he expected to feel was only a whisper, washed away by his growing concern for her. "Liam?" he asked, the name spoken with revulsion. She nodded, and he settled further into his chair, waiting for her to collect herself enough to say her piece.

"He didn't rape me," she said at last, catching Hook off-guard. "I know that's what you think, that's why you don't like him. But he didn't… he only did what I let him do."

"The very fact he carried on with a child constitutes rape, whether you wanted it or not!" Hook answered emphatically.

"He…" Peter groped for the words, trying to explain them right. "When you say rape, I don't really know what that means. I get pieces of ideas, bad feelings and stuff, but I don't know _really_ what it means. But I know it's not what he did. You just don't understand him."

Hook thought _Peter_ was the one who didn't understand Liam. And he didn't think she was in any position to tell him that someone didn't rape her if she didn't know what the word meant. But he wanted to hear what she had to say, not teach her about sex, so he let it go. "Tell me everything you remember about this boy. I'd very much like to understand who he was to you."

"I don't know where to start," Peter said weakly, staring at her hands again.

"Generally one starts at the beginning and finishes at the end," Hook said, annoyance making his words sharp.

Peter smirked at him, looking up to glare with a touch of her old defiance. "Thank you, Captain Obvious. You don't have to be such an ass!"

"And you never had to be such a cocky, irresponsible, hateful little brat for the entire time I've known you," Hook retorted.

Peter stared at Hook, surprised. But then a smile bloomed on her face, and her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. "I thought I'd lost you, Codfish. You've been so nice and considerate today that it's quite had me out of sorts."

"Would you rather I be cruel?" Hook asked in all seriousness. "I can be quite cruel, if I wish. I could lock you in the brig, or just go ahead and sink you to the depths." Surprisingly, Peter didn't say anything. Instead she frowned, obviously considering his offer seriously. "I can be kind too, Kitten. You need a friend right now."

"Friend?" she repeated, laughing lightly. "You'll never be my friend, Captain. You hate me too much and you always will. You're just having too much fun at my expense to let your hate ruin it." Her laughter died, and Hook realized her eyes were bright with tears. "But we are allies, and as my ally I suppose I should at least try to trust you until you prove to me that I shouldn't anymore." She curled up in her chair, getting comfortable, and began her story.

"I think I ran away from home… actually I'm sure I did, and I think it was because my uncle hit me. I was eight, and I picked a bad time to leave. It was winter-time in London, and there was lots of snow and wind. I didn't have any money or food… I was wearing boy's clothes. I think I stole them from someone in my family, a little boy, but I don't remember who he was. I just knew my uncle might look for me, and he'd be looking for a girl.

"I don't know how many nights I slept outside, but I remember it being long enough for me to be pretty desperate. I was hungry all the time – I remember eating out of the garbage – and I was so cold that I couldn't feel my fingers and toes most of the time. I'd guess I was alone for a week, and then it got colder and wetter, and I thought I was going to die.

"No one cared about a gutter-rat (that's what the shop-keepers called me when they chased me away from their stalls), and more than a few said, 'Too bad, but there'll be one less beggar on the streets come spring.' That's a horrible thing to tell a child."

Hook noticed she'd paused and he shook his head. "Yes, horrible. Please continue."

Peter took another moment, recalling the first time Liam had saved her life. "One night I was wandering through the alleys, looking for someplace to get out of the wind. I couldn't feel my feet at all, my shoes were split open so my toes could have room, but all the slush could get in and freeze my feet. That's when I saw Liam. He was standing next to a fire… bunch of garbage he'd piled up and lit. I'd been avoiding men at night, but I was so hungry and cold that I didn't care anymore. So I went up to him and asked if I could share his fire.

"He agreed and was really nice. I acted like I was a boy and said my name was Peter. People take boys more seriously; they think they can do whatever they want to a girl. Once I got warmed back up, he told me that he had some food and a warm place to sleep, and said I could share with him. I was so hungry that I jumped at the chance to get something real to eat. So he took me to his lair."

 _Lair,_ Hook mused. _Like a predator, he had a lair. And he lured you into it very neatly, didn't he?_

"He fed me, and gave me some boots that fit better… my toes were messed up, so he rubbed them for me and made it so I could feel them better. His place was in a basement of an accounting office, near the boiler. He kept his stuff hidden really well, and we lived down there for the rest of the winter, no one the wiser. But that's later. The first night, he seemed really nice and stuff and I liked him right off. But then he jumped on me."

"Jumped on you?" Hook repeated, needing clarification. But he already thought the worst of the teen and his mind was coming up with all the possibilities of what "jumped" could mean.

"He asked me to get something for him, and when I turned around he grabbed me. I was only eight, and he was fifteen he said, so he was a lot bigger than me. He stuck his hand down my pants and touched me where he oughtn't." Peter's face reddened and she looked away, but she continued her story. "He was mad because I'd lied to him about being a boy even after his hospitality. So when he proved to himself that I was a girl, he just dropped me. I thought he'd kill me, and he looked angry enough to do it. But then he smiled at me… it reminds me now of the way you smile sometimes when you get a really wicked idea and start pretending to be nice."

Hook frowned, offended at being compared to Liam, but he maintained his silence.

"He told me how smart I was, knowing better than to act like a girl. But he said my acting was off, and only a blind man would believe me. So he offered me a deal: he'd teach me how to be a boy and live on the streets, share everything square with me – food, shelter, money, clothes – and he'd watch my back and protect me as well as he could… said I'd be like his little brother; in return I'd do what he said, no matter what, and share everything square with him. I wasn't sure if I should believe him, especially after he'd jumped me, but he just shrugged and told me to take it or leave it and showed me the door. It was so cold and dark outside, and so warm inside… I couldn't bear going back out into that and being alone and friendless again. So I agreed."

"Did he keep his end of the bargain?" Hook asked, pouring himself a glass of neverberry wine.

"Yes, his end and more. If you'd have ever asked him if he'd die for someone, he'd have laughed. He liked to pretend that he was selfish and didn't care… and at first I believed his act. But in the end he gave up everything to keep me safe. He loved me… he was the first person to love me in a long time." Peter watched curiously as Hook swirled the wine in his glass before sipping. "Can I have some?"

Hook looked at her and snorted, trying not to smile. "You're much too young, Kitten."

"But I'm ever so much older than I was," she answered. Hook considered for a few moments, and Peter restrained herself from asking again while he thought. Then the man nodded and fetched another glass, which he filled with the deep-red liquid and handed to her. "Thanks," she said, feeling suddenly very thirsty. She took a giant gulp even as Hook tried to warn her, and she nearly choked as the alcohol burned its way down her throat.

Hook deftly caught the glass as Peter bent over, coughing and choking on the wine. He set it safely aside and shook his head. "Always impatient, aren't you, Kitten. Well, now you see why you should take your time with grown-up things." Peter didn't answer, so he waited until she got herself back under control and sat back up. Her eyes were watery and red, and her entire face and neck were flushed scarlet. It was rather entertaining, and he barely concealed his smile of amusement. "Better now, Kitten?"

"Yes," Peter answered, her voice husky. She wiped her eyes and fanned herself, feeling suddenly very hot. "That was…" she cleared her throat, "strong."

"I've probably ruined wine for you by not warning you in time," Hook mused, but Peter proved him wrong by picking up the glass again and taking a tentative sip.

"I remember wine," she said softly, her eyes staring off in the distance. "I hated it. Uncle drank it, and I could smell it on him and know he'd be bad. Liam gave me some of the cheap kind when it was cold and he could nick it… it helped warm me up but it tasted terrible." She took another sip, her eyes slipping closed. "This is nicer. I knew it shouldn't be nasty if _you_ were drinking it, but at the last second I remembered that I used to gulp it down."

"Its not fine wine," Hook said as he picked up his own glass once more. "Mason started making wine and whiskey when we realized we'd be here for awhile. I don't know how long we've been here, but it's been long enough for it to age well."

Peter cocked her head, thinking. "I wonder how long I've been here? I don't even remember the year when I left."

"Do you know of any current events? Who was the monarch at the time?" Hook asked, suddenly curious about the era that had spawned Peter Pan.

"Dunno," Peter answered, "I was too busy trying to live from one day to the next." She smiled, remembering happy times along with the sad. "Those were some adventures! He taught me so much. I learned how to fight, and he showed me the best ways to get away from the bobbies. I learned to steal and beg, and how to distract a vendor while Liam swiped some apples or bread. He introduced me to his mates, and by spring I was the newest member of their gang." Peter snorted, remembering something else. "They called me Slick because the bobs couldn't keep a hold on me, even when they'd caught me square. I _always_ got away. Since I was so small, they used me for housebreaking once or twice. I'd crawl though windows or down chimneys. I loved it, knowing that I could get caught any moment.

"I'd come to love Liam by then, he was like a big brother to me. He always let me eat first and gave me the better blankets. He even nicked me a necklace once, so I could have something girly to wear and not forget what I really was. He wanted me to be a boy because he knew what they'd do to me… he said the same thing you said, that they'd make me a whore. But he didn't want me to forget I was a girl, and always told me that we'd score big one day and he'd buy me dresses and jewelry, and feed me so much pudding and pastries that I'd get fat and look like a proper woman." Her voice hitched as she stifled a sob. "I miss him."

Hook patted her gently on the knee, wanting to offer her a token of sympathy. A token was all he could manage, though. "How did he die?"

Peter clutched her blanket again and stared at Hook's feet. "Our gang turned on us when they found out I was a girl. They wanted to hurt me… 'have a go' Jonas said. Liam was already pretty hurt, but he jumped on Jonas so I could run away. I hid in a tree so I could still see, I didn't want to leave him but I knew better than stay. They beat him up, seven on one, and then Jonas stuck a knife in his chest. They laughed, kicked him again, and came looking for me."

"Did they find you?" Hook asked, praying that they hadn't.

Peter thought for a long moment, but she couldn't answer his question. "Not right then, but I don't know about after. The last thing I remember was going back to Liam after they'd left. He was still alive, but he knew he was done for. He told me to keep up the pretend and never let anyone know I was a girl, not till I was big enough to hold my own. I remembered him dying and then I woke up."

Hook thought for a little while and watched Peter sip more of the wine. He had a few more questions he needed answered, but he was hesitant to ask her. They really were inappropriate, but as her guardian they were things he needed to know.

"I should go," Peter said, setting her glass aside. "I don't know if telling you this will help me sleep, but I think I do feel better."

"How did your gang find out you were a girl, Kitten?" Hook asked. He knew there were lots of ways such a deception could be revealed, nearly all of them innocent. She could have been changing clothes, relieving herself, or there may have been a careless word spoken between her and Liam. But he remembered what she'd said about him touching her, and he knew that was a good way to get caught too. And by the interesting shade of scarlet the girl was turning, he realized with a sinking stomach that he'd hit the mark.

"I don't want to talk about it," she muttered, sliding out of the chair to leave. She didn't get but a step before Hook's fist was in her hair, jerking her back. She yelped, hands flying up to try to extricate the painful grip, but he merely pulled harder, spinning her around to face him.

"I wish to make a couple of things clear to you, Kitten," Hook said calmly, but his eyes flamed with anger. "First, when I ask you a question, I want it answered correctly and to my satisfaction. Don't ever again tell me you won't answer because you don't wish to, and you'd certainly better not lie. I tolerated you evading questions earlier because you were ill. I won't do it any longer. Second, you came here tonight because you needed to talk to someone, and for whatever reason you chose me. You're going to tell me everything you can remember that's bothering you, because I'm not going to have you knocking on my door an hour from now when you still can't sleep. Third, I am your guardian, and I have the right to know if my ward has been molested. Fourth and finally," he let go of her hair and caught her chin in his palm, gently but firmly forcing her to look at him while he leaned closer.

"I'm trying to help you, Peter Pan. By Pew, I don't really know why I'm bothering, but for some reason I'm compelled to help you get through this. Part of it is fascination, part of it's vengeance… part of it may be that you've matured in my eyes and I find you much more tolerable now. But whatever my reasons, I can't help you if you don't tell me everything that's upsetting you."

Peter glared at the man, her eyes sparkling with anger. She'd bristled at reason number one, and the two following that had upset her so much that all the sincerity and concern he put into number four couldn't make a dent in her resolve. "You don't care about me," she snarled, "I don't know why you continue to pretend. All of this is about getting your revenge and amusing yourself at my expense. Why else could you possibly want to know what Liam did to me? Is it that you've got some sick fascination with the whole idea and want details?" Her voice was steadily rising and her whole body shook as she fought to maintain a semblance of self-control and not attack the man.

"No!" Hook snapped. "I just want to know…"

"If you want details, I'll give them to you," she yelled, stepping away from him. "I'll tell you every detail of every time he touched me, and when I'm done I don't ever want to speak to you AGAIN!"

Hook tried to stop her at first, to calm her down and try to reason with her. He didn't want details, the idea of hearing her describe what he already saw in his imagination horrified him. He merely wanted to know the extent of what had been done to her, especially if Liam had taken her virginity. But Peter refused to hear him and her voice rose in volume and pitch whenever he tried to interrupt. All too soon, Hook found himself standing in shocked silence, listening to the girl describe in grim detail how she'd paid for Liam's protection.

He let her rage, watching her carefully as she stormed about the cabin. She'd pick up random things as she spoke, examine them intently in her efforts to not look at him, and then drop or toss them aside. He didn't even wince as several valuable items shattered on the boards – he was too busy wincing at her words. And then she fell silent, and the only sounds in the cabin were of Short Tom ruffling his feathers and Peter's rapid breathing.

Hook gripped the high back of the chair before him, his eyes closing briefly in relief. _He didn't rape her… odds and bobs, there's at least that. He didn't get that far._ The teen had apparently satisfied himself with groping for the most part – in the beginning demanding to be allowed to touch her intimately and in the end teaching her how to touch him back. Those lessons had only started a few weeks before he died and had not progressed much. _But if he hadn't died… eventually he'd have demanded it all._

The silence was heavy and becoming worse with every second. Hook knew he needed to say something to alleviate it, but he also knew the wrong word would drive her further away. He had seriously damaged the tenuous trust he'd gained with her, and one wrong word now would shatter it completely and beyond repair. He wanted to rail against Liam, but that would make her defensive. If he offered sympathy, she'd likely think he was being insincere, or worse, having fun on her account. She wouldn't look at him at all now, standing across the room. He could see her face in profile, lowered to gaze at her feet, cheeks flushed with shame.

 _Shame… she's ashamed of what he's done… what she let him do,_ Hook realized. _She blames herself!_ "It's not your fault," he said quietly. Peter startled and glanced at him briefly, but remained silent. "You were only eight, desperate and alone. You had to do what you could to survive, and there's no shame in that. Every man on this ship has had to do things they didn't like to survive, even Billy Jukes, and no one here will think less of you for it. You're a survivor, Peter; I knew that about you a long time ago. Liam is the one who should have been ashamed. He took advantage of a small child and demanded too high a price for things your family should have provided you for free."

"I fought him at first," she said quietly. "The first time he wanted to touch me. He said it was part of our deal to share everything, and that meant myself too. When I said no, he told me to leave."

"But it was winter and you had nowhere to go. You most likely would have died if you'd left." Peter looked at him again, longer this time, and Hook saw the beginnings of gratitude in her eyes. "He may as well have put a knife at your throat."

"I wish he had," Peter answered bitterly, "then I wouldn't feel so weak for giving in."

"For a small, lost child, abandonment is more frightening than death."

"'It was only touching,' I told myself. I know there's more that could have happened. I'd heard of sex but never seen it… just a vague idea of what goes on." She grimaced, "The gang liked to tell terrible stories about their 'conquests' and that's when I learned about rape. Once I'd joined them and summertime turned hot, we started sleeping outside in the park together. It was cooler outside at night, but you only did it in groups or you might not wake up. Liam kept his hands more to himself then, except occasionally when we were alone."

She turned to Hook, clenching her fists. "That's how I got found out. It was late and we were camped in Kensington Gardens. Everyone was asleep, but Liam was wanting some attention. I didn't want to, I was scared someone would wake up. We argued about it, and we thought we were being quiet but the guy closest to us woke up. Jonas saw what Liam was making me do, and he jumped up and started calling Liam a queer.

"The other guys took up for me, thinking that Liam was taking advantage of me. They decided to beat the queer out of Liam, though, and I couldn't make them stop. Then a few punches into it, Liam told them I was a girl so they'd stop."

"To save himself, he gave you to the wolves," Hook mused darkly.

Peter nodded. "Jonas put his hand down my pants to verify it. Next thing I knew, they all wanted to take turns with me. Some of them started talking about how much money they could make off me every night. That's when Liam jumped Jonas and I managed to slip free and run. I hid and watched them kill him." Peter looked away again and continued, " _I_ killed him. If I'd just done what he wanted and not argued, Jonas wouldn't have woke up…"

"If he'd kept his filthy hands to himself, he wouldn't have gotten caught!" Hook barked, striding towards the girl. He knelt down to her eye level and took her arm, forcing her to face him. "He said he loved you. Whether he really did or not isn't my place to guess. But if he really loved you, he'd have given you food, shelter, and protection for free. I'm a pirate and I don't love you, but I'm giving you all that and I haven't demanded you do anything for me in return except be civil. His death isn't your fault and you've no cause for shame for doing what you had to do to survive."

"Thank you," Peter whispered, her surprise and gratitude at Hook's reaction nearly rendering her speechless. She'd expected him to be disgusted with her, or to take some kind of malevolent glee in her shame. She hadn't expected him to understand and offer comfort, much less try to absolve her of her guilt. And, strangely enough, she did feel most of the guilt and shame lift from her heart. If there was one person in Neverland she expected to condemn her, it was Hook, so if he said that she had no reason to feel bad then perhaps she didn't. She desperately wanted to believe him, and the open sincerity he was showing her gave her something to hold on to. _Not my fault… none of it was me. I love Liam, but he used me and it wasn't my fault. He shouldn't have done it, I never wanted to and he had NO RIGHT!_

Hook smiled at her thanks and carefully dried her face. He could barely contain his joy as he realized how much this volatile talk had turned in his favor. He could plainly see the gratitude in Peter's eyes and knew he'd scored a major victory tonight. He'd regained her trust and so much more by simply being understanding and sympathetic. _I must remember this night the next time she fights me, and try this method again._ "Let's get comfortable and calm ourselves down by talking about pleasanter things. Unless of course there's something else bothering you?"

"No," Peter answered, letting him escort her to her chair. "I feel a lot better now. Lighter, somehow."

"Confiding in someone helps, and I hope you continue to confide in me, Kitten." When Peter nodded, he hid his triumphant grin behind his wineglass. "Well, you've shared with me, so now I'll share with you. But I'll share a happy story, one about me when I was a young pirate on my first voyage. Hopefully by the end of my tale we'll both feel like getting some sleep."

Peter smiled and nodded, welcoming the distraction, and listened in delight to the fantastic yet mostly fabricated tale Hook spun for her. Much later, escorted to her own bed by Hook and tucked in securely, she slept soundly and without dreams.


	18. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"You're NOT putting that in the stew!" Peter yelled, making the fat sea-cook jump in surprise.

Cookson turned to the girl, his fist tightening around the handful of fish-guts he'd been about to add to the pot. "Yous mind ze dishes, leetle Miss, and let ze cook cook!" He smirked at the girl standing by the tub of soapy water. "Yous is just a scullery maid, now feenish zat pan, I needz it for ze bread." He turned back to the simmering pot, intent on adding the entrails, but something metal smacked him in the back of the head. He spun around and saw a soapy ladle lying on the floor.

"You're not adding that," Peter snapped, planting her wet fists on her hips. "I may not know how to cook, but I _know_ fish-guts don't go into clam chowder."

"Es secret ingredient…" Cookson argued, flustered that this mere girl was trying to tell him how to cook.

"I also know we have no clams to go into the clam chowder," Peter interrupted, "and I know we had some earlier. Does the captain know you're serving him swill because you're eating the good stuff yourself?"

Cookson blanched, realizing he'd been found out. As a rule, he kept the men out of the kitchen while he cooked for this very reason. But Hook had wanted Pan to start doing duty, and the temptation of having someone to do the dirty work for him had made him agree to give the girl some chores. Now it seemed that for the past three days the little wench had been spying on him, and she'd discovered what _really_ happened to the choice ingredients.

"Yous know nozing! And if you tells Hook, he no believe you. Hook know better zan trust Peter Pan over his own crew."

Peter frowned, her lips tightening into a fierce scowl. She didn't think Hook _would_ believe her, at least not right off. But he was smart enough to give her story some credence and investigate it. However, Cookson had been getting away with this charade for years, and Peter didn't doubt that he'd find a way to cover his tracks. _Hook will just think I'm causing trouble, and he'll never believe me again._

"Fine," she spat bitterly, returning to her tub of dishes. "Put whatever you want in there. I just won't eat it… not so hard to do, I can't stomach your food anyway."

Cookson's relief that the girl wouldn't rat on him was short-lived, killed by her vow to stop eating. Hers wasn't an idle threat like the men always swore before and after every meal. Pan had missed far too many meals the past few days for the sea-cook to think she was bluffing. It had been four days since she'd regained consciousness, and Cookson knew that she'd only been able to eat his meals twice in that time. And both times, she'd promptly thrown up. The only thing she could hold down was broth and bread, but that wasn't really enough to sustain her adequately.

"Es not good for you to not eat," he told her, setting the innards aside. "Yous look terrible, need to fatten up." And she did look terrible. Despite her recent growth spurt (or maybe because of it), she was much too thin and her face was drawn with exhaustion. Everyone knew she wasn't sleeping much; the watches saw her wandering around on deck at all hours of the night. But during the day, she did whatever duties Smee set for her.

"I'm fine," she answered, going back to the pot she'd been scrubbing. "I'll just take bread and cheese tonight. I'd ask for some of the neverberries, but between Mason's distillery and your eating them, I know they're gone too."

Cookson shuffled guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck with one large, meaty hand. He'd never worried about serving the crew substandard fare before. While it may not taste very good, it _was_ edible and fairly nutritious. And, to his mind, they ate it despite their complaints and no one else had stepped forward to do the job better, so it obviously wasn't upsetting the crew as much as they claimed. But now he was staring at a young girl who was starving because of his cooking – because he was stealing food from her and her stomach wasn't hardened enough to tolerate his substitutions.

"Miz Pan," he said awkwardly, trying to smile, "Yous ez good kitchen help. Pots and pans always squeaky clean, and veggies cut up nice. I makes you a deal: you no say nothing to anyone about Cookson's cooking, and I share good stuff wiz you." To emphasize his point, the cook pulled a bowl of neverberries from a cabinet marked "garbage" and held it out to her. "Es place I keeps the good stuff."

Peter stared at the bowl of berries, her mouth watering and her stomach gurgling in anticipation. She wanted them, no doubt, but this arrangement felt dishonest. "What about the crew?"

Cookson snorted and waved his hand dismissively. "Thiefs and liars, all. Killers too. If dey knows good stuff here, dey eat it all up in a day. Remember, Miz Pan: es every man for hisself on a pirating ship."

Peter hesitated only a moment longer before she hastily dried off her hands and approached the cook. He was right, of course. It was the same thing Liam had told her long ago. Look out for your own interests and let everyone else take care of themselves. He'd broken that rule by taking her under his wing, and it had cost him his life. And while Peter was willing to make that mistake for her Lost Boys or Wendy, she wasn't about to do it for pirates. "It's a deal, Cookson," she said as she grabbed the bowl of berries.

Cookson smiled in relief when she began digging into the bowl, eating ravenously. He returned to his stew and began tossing in the fish-guts. "Finish dat and finish pots, I let you eat more good stuff. Cookson help you get your strength back. We be good friends, now, secret sharers."

Peter smiled at him, her lips red from the berry juice. "Aye, Cookson, we'll be friends." _Not really, but I need allies. I can't trust you, but we can share food._ Wistfully, she thought about her friends and Wendy, remembering happy dinners that the little mother had prepared for them. Her appetite disappeared as her now-customary depression engulfed her once more, but she steadfastly finished her food. She had her first etiquette lesson with Hook tonight, and she needed all the strength she could get.

Tinker Bell sat quietly on her bed and stared at the multi-colored bubble in her hands. Healer Peony had left it for her, and she spent much of her time just staring at it numbly. The swirls of colors soothed her mind, allowing her to spend days in blissful nothingness. It was better this way. Before, she'd spent her time crying in grief and despair, the pain from being cut-off from Peter too much to bear. Before, she'd wanted to die and had tried very hard to make it happen. Now, she didn't want anything, not even to eat or sleep or think. The healer told her when to do those things, so there really wasn't much to worry about at all.

She didn't notice when the door to her chamber opened, and it didn't even register that Oberon, her King, entered with Peony.

Oberon waited while the healer dragged a seat to the side of the bed, taking the time to study Tink. He noted her pinched, haggard face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the vacant stare she fixed on the orb. "How long before she'll come out of it enough to speak?" he asked the healer as he sat.

The white-haired fairy sat near Tinker Bell on the bed. She carefully touched the orb with her finger, popping it. "Not long, majesty. She may not recognize you at first, so I hope you aren't planning on her showing proper formality even once she does."

"No," Oberon assured her. "I know better than to expect much out of her. I understand how much she's been damaged. I regret it was necessary, but, due to her bond, she would have defended Pan with her last breath. I want her to tell me what happened, without being coerced into saying it."

Tinker Bell stirred at the voices, blinking slowly as a small frown crossed her face. "Where are my colors, Peony?"

"You have a visitor, Tink," Healer Peony said gently, taking the girl's hand. "He wants to talk to you."

"Peter?" Tink whispered, looking over to the fairy in the chair. "Not Peter," she corrected, disappointment tingeing her voice. "Oberon, where is Peter?"

"She is safe, Tinker Bell. She's in Neverland right now." Oberon knew he didn't have long before they'd have to give the orb back to the girl. She was waking up, but she'd remain emotionally numb for a while longer before her pain and loss began to return. He needed to take advantage of the time he had. "I need you to tell me about Peter. When did you find out that Peter was a girl? Why did you not tell us? Why did you use the memory traps on the children?"

Tinker Bell gazed at Oberon silently for a few seconds, gathering her thoughts. She knew what the King wanted; she'd been expecting these questions even before they'd shredded her soul. And since she'd known all along what the answers to those questions would be, it didn't take much mental effort for her to begin speaking. Softly, without faltering, she told him everything they both wanted him to hear.

Gloriana sat in her chair and watched the boy lying in her bed. His skin was alarmingly pale and cool to the touch and his eyes gazed fixedly upon nothing at all. Were it not that he blinked occasionally, one might suppose he was dead. And he _would_ be dead right now if the fairy queen hadn't managed to sedate him in time. He appeared to be awake, but his mind was asleep and far away, and nothing his eyes may see right now could penetrate the walls around his mind.

The Queen, quite simply, had had ENOUGH, and she wasn't going to put up with anymore of her husband's high-handed idiocy in the matter of these human children. So now she waited, waited to see if Slightly would awaken sane and waited to see if she and Oberon could reach an accord - or if she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.

When at long last the door to their bedchamber opened and the King entered, Gloriana didn't stir or look at him. Oberon stepped towards her quickly, his face set into an expression of relief. "Love, I spoke with Tinker Bell…" he paused when he saw his bed was occupied. "What is he doing here?"

"He's recovering, and I won't leave his side until he does. What better place for me to care for a child I helped harm than in my own room?" Gloriana waited for Oberon to object, but he remained silent. "As for what happened, he had much the same reaction to Sight as Billy Jukes. He panicked and the combination of magic, fear, and madness was sufficient to collapse the layers of memory traps and the strain shattered his mind."

She drew a shaky breath and finally turned her gaze upon her husband. "It was perhaps most horrible to watch because of how terribly quietly it happened. One moment he was screaming in terror and then suddenly he just… stopped. I could _feel_ the spells collapsing around him and he just _stopped._ He stopped screaming, stopped moving, stopped seeing and hearing," her voice lost its calm control and began to rise as she rounded on the fairy King. "He stopped thinking and feeling, and I barely had time to shield him before he stopped _being_! You promised me! You promised that no other child would be mind-shorn! After what happened to Joseph, you PROMISED and you LIED!"

Oberon recoiled at her rage, but he tried to defend himself. "I didn't know this would happen! If Tinker Bell hadn't…"

"Oh yes, if Tinker Bell hadn't done many things, circumstances would be quite different," Gloriana yelled. "But your heavy-handed rashness has made this into a tragedy! One boy was nearly driven insane, but despite that we pressed on with the tests. We _knew_ about the mind traps, yet we ignored them and put both Nibs and Slightly through the trial. And look at what we have done!"

Gloriana closed her eyes for several seconds, trying to regain her calm. Oberon wisely remained silent, knowing his wife needed to vent her frustrations and fears. "If Tinker Bell hadn't found Peter," she continued, "we'd have a different Pan and our god-daughter would be dead. So I don't fault her for bringing Peter here – after hearing what you saw in her mind, I'm prepared to forgive Tink for bringing us a girl Pan. If I had known long ago what Peter had been through, I'd have adopted her anyway to keep her from that life.

"But we didn't know and Tinker Bell covered it up. She endangered these children with her spells and Neverland itself with her silence. She even made her Pan forget. And what did _we_ do when we found out? We over-reacted – _you_ acted in haste and anger, and now our daughter languishes in exile with her enemies, wearing that THING around her neck!"

"What should I have done then?" Oberon asked quietly. He knew what she was likely to say.

"We should have left her in Neverland until we knew for certain who was at fault for this. We _shouldn't_ have begun severing her from the magic until a Pan had been chosen to replace her. We should have taken our time with _all_ the human children and made sure we understood what would happen when the spells on them intertwined. We _know_ how unpredictable magic is with humans, and yet we've barreled on in our course, determined to replace Peter and punish her for her sins. And look at what we've done! Look at him," she pointed to Slightly. "Look at _her_ ," she pointed to the crystal lying on a pillow, "and look at Neverland!"

Oberon's eyes flickered to a map on the wall, the Neverscroll. The parchment was beginning to yellow and crack, and the ink that represented the island was smearing in places and fading. And the crystal… Oberon couldn't bring himself to look at the crystal. _I didn't realize she would wane so quickly. The Neverscroll itself shows clearly enough that she and the island are dying._

"Now I will tell you what we're going to do," Gloriana said coldly. "We're going to try to repair the damage. We're sending Wendy and the Lost Boys home, without testing them. If Slightly recovers, he'll join them. If he doesn't, he'll remain in my care indefinitely. We're taking that collar off Peter and sending her home. I want my daughter back, and I can only pray that she'll somehow be able to forgive us.

"But the law…" Oberon objected.

"I don't give a shilling's worth of troll shit what the law says! The law also says we must have a Pan, yet we do not. The law says we aren't to test a child to madness, and it's likely we have. The law dictates the proper way for a Pan to pass on the gift, and we've ignored that propriety too. So I say bugger all the laws and fix this, and I'm sure every fairy in Neverland would agree with me!"

Gloriana sat back in her chair, suddenly exhausted. She'd never, ever, spoken to her King so bluntly or so forcefully, and while it felt wonderful, it had also taxed the last of her emotional energy. But she wasn't done yet. She'd given him her objections and her suggestions, and if he accepted them or another agreeable alternative, then she would be content. However, if he continued to be hard-headed, then she would be forced to seize power herself to save her god-child and Neverland. _Please don't make me,_ she prayed, running her hand over the pouch by her side. Within it rested a charm made from her own dust that would rob Oberon of his powers for a week, long enough for her to seize control and undo some of the damage.

Oberon sat on the foot of his bed and stared at Slightly while he thought. "I spoke with Tinker Bell just before I came here, and what she has told me makes all of this much simpler in my mind. I cannot gainsay the law, Love, but…" he held up his hand to silence her protests, "but I do agree with what you have proposed. We will send the Lost Boys home. Healers will carefully, over time, remove Tinker Bell's memory traps so that the danger to them is gone." He glanced at the Neverscroll again, noting its rapid decay. The crystal that connected them to Peter likewise showed signs of failing, the glow becoming dimmer as new cracks and flaws formed.

"Tinker Bell has, without coercion, admitted to treason," he said softly, and he heard Gloriana give a small sigh of relief. "She has told me that she knew Peter was female from the moment she met her. She claimed that she deliberately hid the truth from us so that she could gain status as the pixie who found the Pan, and she encouraged Peter to keep up the pretense. Therefore, we can restore our faith in Peter, knowing that she was not at fault for this deception.

"We _cannot_ allow Peter to remain Pan, but likewise we _must_ have a Pan. So, we shall compromise the two laws: she will remain Pan until a new one is found. I will remove the collar and restore her to the island. Once she and Neverland have had time to heal, we will go about the task of repairing our relationship with her."

"I have a request, Ron," Gloriana said, removing her hand from the pouch. She could barely contain herself at first, giddy from relief and joy that she wouldn't have to resort to treason. "Give me the task of finding a Pan. Let me send out the emissaries and do not ask questions when my search comes up empty for quite some time. After what she's been through, she deserves her time here in Neverland. We've robbed her of so much of it in our harsh treatment."

Oberon nodded. "Done, my Love. In fact, I encourage you to take your time in finding a Pan. We were hasty in selecting our last one, and no one will fault you for taking extra care in finding the next."

They sat in silence for some time, lost in their own thoughts. Eventually Slightly's eyes slid closed, but still he gave no other indication of life. "When shall we go to Peter?" Gloriana asked at long last.

"Soon, I hope, but we still have time. I refuse to go to the ship without you, Glory. I need your patience to keep me from hurting her again."

"I can't leave Slightly, not yet," she replied. "If he awakens, he may need me here to help him. We don't know if he'll be whole, and if he isn't he could hurt himself. The healers don't know how to tend to humans." She sighed, turning her tearful gaze on Oberon. "But I can't stand the thought of leaving Peter there for one more minute! I don't know what to do!"

"We'll wait," Oberon said soothingly, taking her hand. "Peter is fading, but we can wait another day or so. If Slightly still hasn't awakened, I will go alone and deal with her. In the meantime, I will help you watch the boy. Get some rest, and I'll awaken you in the morning."

Gloriana smiled at him and prepared for bed. She kissed her husband goodnight and climbed into the bed next to Slightly, nestling him next to her in a protective gesture. In moments she was asleep, the horror of the day had exhausted her completely. Oberon watched over them through the night, occasionally turning to regard the Neverscroll or to examine the crystal, taking thoughtful measure of how much time they had left to reclaim their god-daughter.

Peter hummed to herself as she left the kitchen, feeling a lot better than she had in days. Her stomach rumbled in happy contentment, busy digesting the neverberries, sausages and biscuits Cookson had given her. Allying herself with the ship's cook now seemed to be the best decision she'd made since being brought aboard, and her future seemed just a little brighter now that she was no longer starving. The buckets of water she was hauling seemed rather light, and she smiled as she approached Jukes's workroom. Once she dropped off the buckets, she was done with the day's duties and would have a little time to herself before she'd have to get ready for tonight's dinner.

She could hear the clanging of iron on iron as she approached, and the air was noticeably warmer. The door to the workroom was open, doubtless to aid in ventilation, and Peter realized with joy that Billy must have the forge running. She quickened her step and soon stood in the doorway, looking around in wonder.

She liked Billy's workroom, it was easily the most interesting cabin on the ship and she longed to be able to poke around and play with the assortment of tools that littered the area. The walls were festooned with drawings and sketches of the gunner's ideas and strange instruments that looked like torture devices: hooks, hammers and tongs. The shelves and cabinets were packed with countless gadgets and inventions, most of which probably didn't work (but that didn't lessen her curiosity). The whole room was fascinating, but even more interesting was the bare-chested, dark-skinned youth in the center of the room, covered with smudges of ash and beads of sweat.

He hammered relentlessly on a red-hot bar of metal lying on the anvil, the glow lighting his face in and almost supernatural way. The rhythmic pounding was reminiscent of music and was somewhat comforting to hear, suggesting strength and power. She'd watched Billy secretly many times in the past week, poking her head in to watch for a little while when she was supposed to be in her room or doing duty. Once or twice she'd been sent here to deliver water, but Smee and Mason both had warned her to drop off her burden and leave quickly without speaking. Apparently Billy was fiercely protective of his territory, and he was rather nasty if his concentration was broken while he was working. According to Mason, the boy had gotten in some serious trouble for even going off on Hook once for trespassing – Jukes now knew better than to snap at Hook, but the captain had also refrained from ever again interrupting the boy while he was at work.

But Peter couldn't just leave, not yet. Her curiosity was burning within her, burning hotter than that iron he was forging over there, and she couldn't leave until it was satisfied. She'd been thinking about Billy a lot lately, and not all of her thoughts were good. She knew the boy didn't like her; she'd overheard him and Mullins speaking several times about how magic was evil and everyone that used it would rightfully burn in the pits of Hell. Couple that with their assertions that women shouldn't be allowed aboard, and Peter had concluded that Billy and Mullins both hated her for some reason and wanted her gone. That realization hurt her, especially since Mullins had been friendly to her before… until he got his Billy back.

 _But for someone who hates magic so much, Mr. Jukes, you sure use a lot of it,_ Peter thought as she watched the gunner, letting her eyes slip into Sight. She'd discovered this yesterday quite by accident. She'd been bored and had looked with Sight to study her collar and what it was doing to her. That had been fairly depressing, so she'd quickly looked away and spent her time watching other things. And that's when she'd noticed an odd flowing and rippling of magic in Jukes's workroom.

She'd forgotten that Jukes could touch magic, events around the time she'd cured his blindness were rather hazy in her mind. But as she watched Billy unconsciously fold layers of magic into this steel, she remembered that he'd touched the magic that day. She also remembered how Hook's claw had glowed in Sight. _Oberon missed you, Billy. You could have been a Pan if you'd been just a little younger. You could see and touch magic… you've been touching it all along without knowing it._ Her discovery gave her a sense of kinship with the young pirate.

Quietly, she walked further into the room, needing to see more. It was fascinating to watch him work the magic into this shape; she'd never seen anyone do anything like this before. He was folding the magic into the layers of steel in a way no fairy could possibly understand. Only a human could do this - only a human that could touch magic. Billy Jukes, for all he hated it, was using magic himself, and he didn't even know he was doing it.

 _If he knew, he'd stop… or he'd start_ trying _and mess it up._ She wasn't going to tell him what he was doing, though a part of her wanted to. She thought that maybe if he knew he was using magic, he'd realize it wasn't an evil thing. Maybe then he'd actually _look_ at her instead of glancing at her and looking away with a scowl. She wanted him to look at her, to see her as a person and not some kind of monster. She wanted to be friends with him, to get to know him and be near him. She thought she might like to touch him. She wasn't sure why she felt this way, and it frustrated her to no end. She supposed it had something to do with growing up, and she wanted to hate him for stirring these strange feelings within her. Her life was confusing enough without this too. But instead of anger, she felt a strange sadness and disappointment. She wouldn't tell Billy he was using magic simply because he wouldn't believe her. Why should he when he hated her?

Regardless of how Jukes felt about her, she was simply too interested in his project to leave. She stood quietly, watching him forge. She'd noticed yesterday that this was a new project, but she'd not been able to stay long enough to see what it was. The times before that when she'd watched him, he'd been working on Starkey's sword. She blinked, focusing her eyes once more on the visible world, and looked around. She saw the newly-made blade lying on a work table, the rudiments of a hilt partly attached to the tang. _So what is this then?_ she mused, taking another step forward. It looked like it was to be another sword.

Her curiosity became intolerable. She _had_ to know for sure what Billy was making and who it was for. It had to be special for him to weave magic into it like that. Starkey's new sword didn't glow in Sight, so Billy didn't use magic for just _any_ project. _He hasn't said anything to me yet, so maybe he doesn't mind me being here._ She'd been quiet, but she was standing right in front of him, so there was no way he'd not noticed her by now.

"Whatcha making, Billy?" she asked brightly, smiling at the gunner. Jukes's next hammer strike landed strangely, producing an oddly muted thud instead of the sweet ringing of his previous strikes. Peter felt something invisible shatter around her, and she realized with horror that Billy's innate spell had broken.

Jukes looked up at the intruder, his eyes blazing. "What the hell are you doing in here?" he snarled, the cold tone of his voice a stark contrast to his fury.

"Smee asked me to bring you some water," Peter answered softly as she took a quick step back.

Jukes glared at the girl, seeing the two buckets behind her. "Well, ya brought water. So why are you _still_ here?"

"I wanted to see what you were making," the girl replied.

Billy glanced down at the sword on his anvil, and his anger boiled over into rage. It was ruined – a whole day's work, gone in the blink of an eye. It looked fine; indeed, it looked perfect even to a blacksmith's eye. But it _felt_ wrong… it felt shattered and cold despite the glow of heat emanating from it. A moment ago this metal had been alive and singing with strength. Now it lay dead, killed before it could finish being born. And this intruder, this nosy _girl_ , had killed it.

"I'm not making anything," he snarled, advancing on her. "You've destroyed it. A whole day of sweat, wasted!"

"I'm sorry," Peter apologized, backing away from the boy. He was gripping his hammer so tightly that she thought the handle would snap, and the murderous gleam in his eyes made her uneasy.

"Peter Pan is sorry?" Billy laughed harshly. "You've never been sorry in your whole life! You've _always_ come here, sabotaging the ship and making fools of us all. But not in my shop! Get OUT! Stay out and stay out of my SIGHT!"

Peter backpedaled hastily, alarmed by his rising voice and threatening advance. She'd seen him angry before; hell, she'd deliberately provoked him on numerous occasions and he'd often charged her with a drawn blade. But those had been games to her, and she'd had her unique abilities to see her through. Now she was just an ordinary girl, an ordinary, unarmed girl with an angry, hammer-wielding pirate bearing down upon her. She didn't want to fight Jukes… she _couldn't_ fightJukes because of the collar. And if he attacked her, she didn't want to face the crew's wrath when they found him dead. She was so intent on getting away that she didn't remember the buckets behind her until she tripped over them. She went down with a surprised cry, followed by a yelp of pain as first her rump and then her head connected with the deck.

 _Oh shit,_ Billy thought when he saw the girl fall, his surprise and concern breaking his anger. "Peter? Are you alright?" he called, quickly going to her side. She lay there for a long moment, unmoving, and fear clawed his gut. _She hit her head the day she helped me… I'll never forgive myself is she's hurt herself worse._

Peter blinked rapidly as stars crossed her vision. Slowly, she managed to sit up, her head filled with pain. She saw Billy sitting beside her and she frowned at the worried expression on his face. "I'm fine," she muttered, her hand going to the back of her head. Billy held out his hand to her, but she turned away from it with a scowl. "I'm going, I don't need your help." Awkwardly, she clambered to her feet, slipping a little in the puddle of spilled water.

Jukes rose with her, taking her arm and helping her anyway. She swayed despite his support, so he gently tugged her towards a stool. "Sit for a bit, Miss Pan. Yer head's taken too many knocks lately."

"I said I'm fine!" she yelled, pulling away. "Don't worry, Mr. Jukes, I won't tell the Captain I fell because you came at me with a hammer, so you needn't pretend to be concerned."

Billy startled at the accusation. He glanced down, seeing his hammer lying where he'd dropped it when she fell. "I wouldn't hurt you," he protested.

"Why wouldn't you? You hate me! You won't ever speak to me, you won't look at me… even when all I wanted to know was if you'd seen my Lost Boys when Oberon had you, you avoided me and wouldn't tell me anything!" Peter felt her tears coming again and her anger rose with them. She hated the gunner for being able to hurt her inside enough to make her cry. Billy tried to speak again and she spun away from him, too angry and upset to want to listen. "I'm going, don't worry. I'll NEVER bother you again and I'll make sure you see me as little as possible. I have no idea why I ever liked you, or why I could have _ever_ wanted to be your friend!"

"What?" Billy asked in shock as he watched her storm out of his workroom. "Pet… Miss Pan, wait!" he called, but she disappeared down the corridor, her boots making rapid clicks on the wood as she barely kept herself from running away. Not long after that he heard the door to her cabin slam shut.

A low stream of curses flowed from Billy's lips, but they were directed at himself. It was all he could do to stand there when he should be running to her room, offering her his apologies. _Good going, Billy,_ he congratulated himself bitterly, _way to get on her good side there._ He had been avoiding her since she came aboard, but he hadn't realized he'd been so rude and unfriendly about it. He felt a burn of shame and self-loathing, knowing now that not only had he slighted her, he'd somehow managed to convince her that he hated her. _I wish I did hate her. It would make things so much easier… she said she liked me! She wanted to be friends, and now I've made sure she'll never speak to me again. Smee should'a known better than send her down here!_

The men knew to leave him alone when he was working. Forging on a ship was dangerous, the heat dried out the wood and a stray spark could cause a disaster. The wood in this room was treated to make it less flammable and the fire pit was shielded to prevent a fire, but it was still extremely dangerous. He should be doing this ashore, but in the early days Pan and the Lost Boys invariably came and sabotaged his forge, forcing him to do his work on board. As much as he wanted to go after Peter now and smooth things over with her, he couldn't leave the forge unattended for even the briefest moment. Fire didn't take long to catch, and seconds were all it would take for it to get out of control.

 _If only Mullins or Mason would come by…_ but that was a hopeless thought. They knew better. He was too easily irritated and often snappy when interrupted, and anytime his projects failed his curses could be heard across the ship. It wasn't uncommon for things to be hurled across the room. _Any other time, any other project, and I wouldn't have gotten that upset. I'm such an idiot._

Billy sighed in exasperation and retrieved his hammer. Starting up the forge was time consuming, and he couldn't bank the fire until he was done. _I've got to start over again,_ he thought in disgust when he looked at his failed sword. _This has to be perfect, I have to start from scratch._ If this was to be a simple sword, he could have just reheated it and continued hammering away, the metal itself was undamaged. But this was special somehow – he wasn't sure why or even who it would belong to, but he felt somehow that it had to be his best work ever. He hadn't felt this much of a pull since he'd made the Captain's hook and nothing short of perfection would work.

He spared a glance for Starkey's blade and immediately dismissed it. It was done; it just needed some finishing touches and a polish. Now was the time to work on THIS sword. Carefully, he started over, pulling out a fresh bar of steel and setting aside the failed sword. It would do well enough for Mullins or Smee, and he'd finish it later. As he once more set to work, his thoughts turned to Peter. He imagined her smiling, flying through the air, happy and free once more. He thought of what it would be like flying with her, touching her hand as they soared. It was the same daydream he'd been having when she'd interrupted, and as he unconsciously began forging magic and steel he concentrated solely on Peter Pan, the girl a permanent fixture in his dreams and the only true happy thought he could ever remember having.


	19. Dinner With the Captain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Dinner with the Captain. Peter knew she would absolutely hate it, and so far she hadn't been disappointed. _And it's only going to get worse,_ she thought grimly, giving herself another look-over in Hook's mirror. Starkey had left just a little while ago, after helping her lace up the top of her dress. It was tight and she could barely breathe, but when she'd complained to the pirate he'd merely chuckled and told her to count herself lucky it wasn't a true corset. Peter didn't know what a corset was, but she vowed that she'd only wear one when they put it on her dead body. _I suppose I'm ready_ ; Starkey hadn't given her anything else to put on, so she tugged on her bodice one last time, took a breath, and stepped out onto the deck.

She'd expected to be made to dress up; after all, it had been one of Hook's demands when they'd made their truce, so she hadn't argued when Smee had brought her the clothes the captain had procured for her. But that truce hadn't made it any easier for her to accept. The dress was uncomfortable and heavy, but she had to admit to herself as she'd gazed into Hook's mirror that it was beautiful. It wasn't the one that Smee had made for her (that one wasn't nearly as nice as this); Hook had stolen this one from some hapless vendor at Small Monday Island Fair when they'd raided it earlier in the week. It was a magical gown, embroidered with threads of silver and enchanted to change colors when the correct word was spoken. To Peter's annoyance, only Hook knew the word so _he_ got to pick the color. He'd chosen a deep shade of blue, which placated the girl somewhat, because if it had been pink or yellow she'd have probably hung herself with it. Her biggest complaint was that the bodice was tight and boosted up her bosom, making her small breasts appear larger and fuller – an effect that quite unsettled her.

She'd pinned up her hair in a simple style, the easiest of the ways that Starkey had taught her, and she'd been satisfied with the result. She had refused to wear the makeup Starkey had tried to put on her face, and Hook had scored major points with her by agreeing that she shouldn't wear it. It relieved the girl to hear him say that, despite her recent growth, she was still too young to wear the paints and powders.

It was still hard to look in a mirror and recognize the girl there as herself, but she was getting used to it. It actually helped to have the memories of her life with Liam – even though she'd acted as a boy then, she'd known she was a girl and now she remembered some of her little-girl likes and desires. She knew that at one time she'd have loved to be wearing this dress, would have pretended to be a princess waiting to be rescued. But now that she'd played the prince, she found that she preferred being the one doing the rescuing. She hated being helpless, and she was filled with shame for letting herself be put in that position again.

"I'm ready, Captain," she called from the doorway of his cabin, stepping out onto the moonlit deck. There was a table in the center of the deck, set with fine china and silverware and lit by candles. Hook was sitting at the table, facing the door, nursing a small glass of wine. Smee hovered to the side, fussing with some minute detail of the tableware. Both men looked up at the sound of her voice, and Peter froze for a moment, confused by the expressions on their faces. _I look stupid, I know it. They're going to laugh at me._

Hook stared at the girl, wondering for the briefest of moments who this young lady might be. In the shadows cast by the moonlight, Peter seemed much older, and it took his breath away to get a glimpse of the woman she would become. Then the image faded and he noticed her uncertainty and confusion. Remembering his manners (especially since manners were what this evening was all about), Hook stood and briskly approached the girl. He offered her a smile and a bow before holding out his arm. "You look absolutely stunning, Miss Pan."

Peter blushed lightly, not sure how to take the compliment, especially since she'd been expecting an insult. Part of her was pleased by it and liked that he was looking at her so approvingly. It made her feel special and wanted, feelings she hadn't had since her godparents had disowned her and destroyed all the happiness in her life. The other part of her hated this, hated being reduced to a novelty for Hook to enjoy, and wanted nothing more than to claw his eyes out so he'd never look at her that way again. That part of her would rather die than do things to please Hook. Her peaceful side won out, knowing it was rather hopeless to fight. The collar would keep her from attacking, and she couldn't fly away or escape. And as much as she hated her life, she wasn't prepared to die to escape it just yet, not when there was the slimmest of hopes that everything would turn out alright in the end, like Wendy always said they did.

"Thank you, Captain," she answered as she stepped towards the table, ignoring the proffered arm. She wasn't surprised when Hook's hand clamped around her arm, halting her progress. "I can walk, Codfish," she snapped when he pulled her back and offered his arm again. "I've been doing it quite well on my own for years."

"A proper gentleman offers his arm to escort a lady to dinner, and a proper lady graciously accepts his offer," the Captain instructed, tightening his hold until Peter quit pulling against him. "Consider that your first lesson of the evening, Miss Pan. Your second lesson is this: Do _not_ call me Codfish ever again!"

"You're hurting me," Peter said lowly, glaring at them man.

Hook released the girl's arm. "Learn your lessons, Kitten, and I'll have no reason to hurt you."

"Would a gentleman hurt a lady?" Peter asked, trying to turn this around on him. "Besides, the collar won't let you harm me."

"You are an arrogant, petulant child, and I will not hesitate to punish you if you step out of line. When you act like a lady, I will treat you as such. And as for the collar," he loomed over her menacingly, but she merely glared up at him without shrinking back, "if you continue to try to goad me, I will have no problem testing the limits of that thing around your neck. I wonder how much I can hurt you before it will react. Does it know the difference between many little hurts and one big one? I must admit I am curious."

"I just bet you are," Peter said lowly, taking Hook's arm. "Let's just get this over with, Captain. I'm tired and I don't want to be here." The two not-quite enemies had been getting along quite well the past few days, but neither of them pretended that it was because they liked one another. Hook had been giving the girl her space, allowing her to recover from her ordeals. Peter had been keeping herself occupied by doing duties for Cookson and Smee. She'd seen Hook often during the day, but they'd both be so preoccupied with their respective duties then that they'd only given each other cursory looks or hurried greetings. Peter spent a lot of time on deck at night, practicing sewing or other mundane skills Smee was teaching her, unable to sleep for fear of her nightmares. Hook often joined her on deck, the two sitting in the silence of their thoughts until Peter felt it was safe to go to bed, both too tired to muster the energy to fight.

Hook seated her at the table and returned to his own seat. "Thank you for humoring me, Kitten, and cooperating. I'm relieved that I didn't have to have you wrestled into the gown." Peter didn't reply, choosing instead to survey the mind boggling number of dishes and silverware on the table. For a girl used to using a bowl and (maybe) a spoon at the most, the spread before her was excessive. "You make an exceptionally tolerable young lady. If it wasn't for your attitude, I could almost forget that you're the odious brat that is my eternal torment."

"I don't _want_ you to forget who I am," Peter insisted, looking up at him angrily. "I'm Peter Pan, and I always will be, no matter how much you try to pretend I'm someone else."

"No, Kitten, you won't always be Peter Pan," Hook corrected as he draped his napkin across his lap. "You're in exile, and a new Pan will replace you – making you only Peter."

"Captain…" the girl tried to interrupt.

"But we know your name isn't 'Peter' either, and once we're away from here, no one will ever call you by that name again. So you'll be no-one, and unless you remember your real name, I'll have to pick one out for you." His smile widened as he thought, trying to find a name that fit her. "Do you like 'Elizabeth'? Perhaps 'Victoria' is more to your liking. I knew a girl named 'Patience', but that doesn't really suit you. 'Cassandra'? 'Samantha' or 'Jessica'?"

"Stop," Peter growled, her hands balling into fists. Names were power, and she wouldn't allow Hook that much power over her by letting him name her. It disturbed her on a very deep level to realize that he could exert control over the most basic aspects of her life whether she wanted him to or not. 'Peter' was who she wanted to be, the name she had chosen for herself so many years ago for her own reasons. It was the identity she'd wrapped around herself for protection, leaving behind her old, weak name.

"Perhaps you'd like something simpler?" Hook continued, enjoying the distress he saw in her expression. Peter had been far too listless lately, and it heartened him to see that there was life left in her yet. Her earlier defiance had made him realize just how much he missed their fights. A battle would be refreshing, so long as he was the one that won it. "'Mary' is quite pleasant, or 'Lucy'. 'Emily', 'Jane', 'Anne'…"

"STOP IT!" Peter screamed, his last few choices pushing her past her limits. She slammed her fists onto the tabletop, ignoring the way the china bounced and clattered. "Is nothing safe from you? Why must you take _everything_ from me?"

"I haven't taken anything, Kitten," Hook replied. "Oberon and Gloriana will take everything from you; I'm merely replacing what you'll no longer have. You chose the name 'Peter', but it isn't a child's place to name herself. Your parents named you once, and since that name is lost it's up to me, as your guardian, to choose a name to replace it. Speaking of which, you'll need a family name. And since I'm the closest thing to family you'll have, you'll take my name as your own. I hope you like 'Hook', because you'll be one."

Peter continued to glare at him, trying to maintain her composure. Of all the surnames in the world, 'Hook' was the _last_ one she'd take as her own. _No,_ she corrected herself, _I'll take 'Hook' before I'll take my old name back. I'll take_ any _name he gives me before I take my old name back._ Smee chose that moment to deliver their salads, humming cheerfully as he set the dishes before them. Hook nodded at the old man and picked up his fork, waiting for Peter to do the same. The girl merely continued to glare at him, too upset and angry to be concerned about food.

"Kitten," he growled, then paused, taking a moment to taste the word. "Kitten… Cat… Catherine! An easy nickname for a delightful name. I like it! Catherine Hook!" He smiled, pleased with his word play. "How do you like your new name, Catherine?"

Peter felt herself grow cold, her stomach lurching in response to the name. It wasn't her real name, hearing him call her by that would have probably killed her, but it still hurt to hear him name her so casually. She'd lost so much of herself since she'd been exiled, she'd changed so much from who she was, turning from a person she'd loved to be into a hollow shell that she abhorred. And now he was killing yet another part of her old life, killing another part of Peter Pan, and he was enjoying himself. She could plainly see his cruel smile, basking in her discomfort. He was reveling in his power over her life, holding so much of it in his hand that he could change her in such a fundamental way. Now, more than ever before, she saw that he fully intended to take every shred of identity from her and replace it according to his own desires.

"You can take your 'Catherine Hook' and you can hang her," she said coldly, standing up. "I don't want a new name, nor do I need one. I HAVE a name!"

Hook stood also, his delight in seeing her hackles up warring with his annoyance at her defiance. It would always be this way between them, this fire and ice, and he loved it. It's what fascinated him with her. "I've told you, _Catherine,_ that 'Peter' is not suitable…"

"I remember my real name, and I don't need one of yours!" she shouted angrily, furious that he was trying to make this new identity hers against her will. She noted his surprise with satisfaction, happy that she could at least still catch him off guard. But she knew it was a terribly small victory and that he'd recover quick enough, and she wanted to be well away from him before he could attack again. She turned away, intent on taking refuge in her room, but she was still far from the hatch when he caught her by her shoulder, halting her.

"Peter," Hook said gently yet firmly, deciding he'd pushed her far enough for now. He wanted her lively, not running off to her room to cry, and it bothered him that she wasn't really trying to fight him anymore. So he used her masculine name now in an effort to soothe her and make her more receptive to returning to the table and to her lesson. "Come back, dear girl, and eat. I was merely teasing you. I do intend for you to take a feminine moniker, but I know better than try to pin a name to you on a whim. I was hoping you'd banter with me, a civil debate between us, but instead you choose to run away."

"What makes you think I have the energy or the heart to fight you anymore?" Peter asked softly, making no move towards the table but also not trying to pull away. "Every time I think I have nothing more to lose, you or the fairies prove me wrong and take something else. None of you care what I want, and you'll continue taking from me until I'm dead."

Hook shook his head and ran his thumb across her cheek in a gesture of comfort. "No, Peter, that's not true. I do care what you want, which is why when the time comes for you to take a new name, I'll let you pick it – provided I approve of your choice. If you know your real name, there's no reason to give you a new one…" he saw her eyes narrow at that, "unless you don't want it anymore." He was rather surprised that he wasn't angry or annoyed with her, but he attributed his rare patience to the fact that he could sympathize with her.

Peter couldn't hide her surprise. "Really? You'd let me choose my own name?"

"Come, sit and eat, and we'll discuss your name between lessons. I had my men barter with the savages for something more to your taste for dinner tonight – something I hope will sit on your stomach better than Cookson's regular fare. You _need_ to eat, my dear."

Peter hesitated a moment longer, trying to decide what to do. She was still angry at him and didn't want to seem like she was bowing to him in any way by complying. But he was being rather considerate and she didn't want to destroy his strange mood by being difficult and spiteful. And, to her mind, if obeying him now kept her from being stuck with a name she despised later, it would be a small price to pay.

"Yes, Captain," she agreed, smiling at the momentary relief in his expression. She let him seat her and returned her attention to her plate. The salad looked enticing enough and she _was_ hungry. Hesitantly, she reached for one of the many forks on the table.

"No, Kitten," Hook admonished as he took up his own fork. "The rule here is simple: start with the outside utensils and work your way in towards your plate. When you finish each dish, lay the fork or spoon on your plate. The silverware is arranged to match the order the courses are to be served, so you should never have to guess which one to use."

Peter lifted her outermost fork. "This one?" When Hook smiled and nodded she began to eat, digging into the vegetables with a zeal she hadn't felt in a long time.

The salad and soup courses went smoothly. Hook was surprisingly patient with her and Peter for her part tried her best to remember his tips and rules. It really wasn't as hard as she thought it would be, and when she _did_ slip up, the man merely pointed out her mistakes without being nasty about it. While they waited for the main course, Hook asked the question he was dying to have answered.

"You remember your name, Pan? What is it?"

Peter took a careful sip of water, wondering if they'd have another fight now. In the time it took her to swallow, she decided she really didn't care. If he didn't like her answer, he had no choice but to get over it. She'd humored him thus far tonight and behaved more in one sitting than she ever had in her entire life. But even though she was going to put her foot down, she took the time to think about her response before answering, to avoid as much of a confrontation as possible.

"Will you be angry if I don't want to tell you?" she asked, keeping most of the apprehension out of her voice.

Hook paused in surprise and regarded her for a long moment. "That's remarkably mature of you to ask me that, Miss Pan. I'm quite proud of you."

Peter nearly dropped her glass. "Is not!" she snapped, terribly offended. She didn't know what flustered her more – that he thought her mature or that she'd made him proud. "I just want to know if you'll get angry so I can get a head start before I tell you no. You were rather mad at me before when I didn't want to tell you about Liam."

"A mark of maturity is when you consider the feelings of others before you speak or act," Hook told her, smiling. "It's something you were quite famous for _never_ doing."

She wanted to argue with him about that, to tell him that she'd always been considerate of other people's feelings. But then she remembered several instances where she'd said or done something insensitive to anger Wendy or Tink, and several times when she suspected she'd hurt one of the boy's feelings without intending to. The girls were rather vocal when they were offended, but the boys tended to pretend that their skins were tougher than that. For the first time, she felt a small sense of shame for her thoughtlessness. "Well, you aren't very mature either, Captain," she said a little petulantly, trying to spread the blame somewhat.

Hook grinned, leaning forward to regard her better over the tableware. "Sometimes I'm not, put that way. Pirates are often very immature, and captains often cannot afford to take their crewmen's feelings into account. But I _do_ consider my words and actions more often than you think, but not to spare anyone's feelings. I usually seek to instill fear or anger in my enemies, and that takes some consideration." Then he leaned back again and lifted his glass of wine. "But to answer your question: it depends on _why_ you won't tell me. I want to know your name, Kitten, so it had best be a good reason."

Peter crossed her arms, grimaced, and shifted her arms lower so they crossed below her new bust line. She was still having to adjust some of her old movements to her newly developed body, and even simple things sometimes posed a problem. Once she had her arms settled, she gave Hook her best _I've-made-up-my-mind-so-deal-with-it_ look and tried say what she felt and still make sense. "When I ran away from home, I left my old life there. I've never told anyone my name since, except Liam, and I only told him when he was dying. No one's called my by that name in all these years, not even myself, and I don't want to start now."

She uncrossed her arms, feeling oddly vulnerable and exposed at trying to explain something so personal to Hook. _Silly,_ she chided herself, _I told him all kinds of private stuff that Liam did to me; this should be easy compared to that._ But what Liam did to her had been an adult thing and quite out of her control. This was her own decision, something that carried a lot of emotion for her though she didn't know exactly why, and she didn't want him to belittle her over this. "I don't really remember who I was when I wasn't acting like a boy, but I remember I hated myself. I didn't want people to know I was a girl, and I especially didn't want people to know I had been _that_ girl… she was weak and ugly and worthless…" Peter looked away a moment, despairing that he'd take her seriously. "I'm not her anymore, and that name's dead and buried. I'd rather you named me 'Catherine Hook' than start using my real name again."

Hook understood her feelings on this more than she could possibly realize. He'd changed his own name twice in his lifetime, once when he took up piracy and then again when this little girl had cut off his hand. 'Hook' was who he was now, and he considered the surname he'd been born with as dead as the rest of his family. "That's fine, Kitten. If you abhor that name so much, then I have not intention of forcing you to become that girl again. But I still would like to know her name, for my own curiosity."

"I never even told Tink, so why should I tell you?" She saw Hook's frown and decided to try to be nicer. He had, after all, just told her that he wouldn't make her take back her old name, and that really did mean a lot to her. "Liam died for me, and only then did I trust him with my name. So I'll promise you this: I'll tell you my real name when I feel like you deserve to know. Be kind to me, give me a life worth living, earn my trust and my regard, and there'll never be any secrets between us." _That'll never happen._

"Is that a challenge or a bribe, Kitten?" Hook asked, still smiling. He liked both challenges and bribes, and he liked that she was resorting to such a manipulative tactic.

Peter shrugged. "I prefer to think of it as a reward for good behavior." She startled when Hook burst into laughter, the sound both unexpected and unfamiliar. Hook rarely laughed and when he did it was usually mocking and cruel. Here he was smiling and the sound was warm and friendly - infectious, also, as Peter began to chuckle with him. She felt good laughing and realized she missed this particular activity almost as much as she missed flying.

When he got himself under control, Hook reached across the table and patted Peter's hand, his expression alarmingly affectionate. "My dear, you truly _are_ becoming a woman; you're already learning a woman's trick of getting the better of a man. You are going to prove quite a handful, aren't you, my clever little vixen? As much as I want to know your name, I'll respect your wishes on this. I accept your challenge, Miss Pan, and I eagerly await the day you see fit to reward me by confiding your real name to me."

Peter smiled in relief, completely disarmed by his unexpected understanding and cooperation. Further conversation was stilled for a short time when the main course was served. It was roast neverbird, and, roast being something Cookson couldn't easily substitute ingredients for, it was delicious. As she ate, Peter began to consider Hook anew.

 _Maybe it's time for me to change the way I play this game,_ she mused, thinking of how Hook had responded to her. He'd said she was acting mature, more like a woman, and she wondered if she could get her way more often if she continued to act that way. It would take practice, she had no women here to model her behavior after, but she was sure she could learn how best to pull Hook's strings. _It'll be fun finding out._

"Captain, would you please pass the salt?" she asked, her smile widening when she saw him nod in approval. She thanked him as she took the salt and pepper shakers and decided to press her luck. "The dishes are awfully pretty captain, and I'm certainly enjoying the meal. I suppose I should thank you for inviting me… is that the proper thing to do?"

Hook nodded, feeling a surge of pride that he'd managed to teach Pan basic table manners without a drop of blood shed. "Thanking your host for a pleasant dinner is most definitely the proper thing to do, my dear, and you're welcome. Perhaps we shall do this more frequently. The practice would do you good and I have rather enjoyed your company tonight. You've always been the only person on this dreadful isle that I felt I could hold an intelligent conversation with."

"That would be nice," Peter answered and then shrugged offhandedly. "But I don't know… it's such a bother having to take so long getting all dressed up, and there's a dreadful number of dishes that Cookson's going to make me wash in the morning."

"If you'll join me more often, Kitten, I'm sure we can dispense with the formality. You'll wear the nicer dresses Smee has made for you, and we'll save that one for special occasions." He chuckled when he saw her pleasure at that decree, and he felt a strange indulgence overtake him. She really had been through a lot lately and she'd been well behaved for quite some time. She deserved some reward, if only to encourage her good behavior and cooperation. "As for the dishes, don't worry about it. Cookson can wash them himself."

Peter beamed at him, pleased with herself for figuring out a way to make her life so much more tolerable. She considered seeing if she could volunteer Jukes for the dishes, she was still furious with him and thought it would be a nice start on her revenge, but she decided not to press her luck. Too much at once and Hook might figure out her game before she'd gotten good at playing it. Instead, she thanked him for being so kind, trying not to giggle in delight. She even managed to half-pay attention while he droned on about some boring play he'd seen once in some city she'd never heard of.

Hook thought the rest of the meal was delightful. Peter continued to astonish him with her civility and her honest attempts to behave according to the rules of etiquette. She'd almost managed to act interested in his boring conversation, and Hook noted with approval that it wouldn't take much more practice before she could convincingly act like she was listening to the driest stories he could manage. Appearing engaged in dinner conversation, regardless of how boring it was, was a skill a proper lady learned to master and Pan had picked up on it instinctively. Hook was very impressed and feeling quite optimistic about her future with him.

Eventually the meal was done and Peter took her leave, following Smee to her cabin so the old man could help her out of her dress. Both man and girl were satisfied with how the evening went, and both felt they'd scored major points in their new game.

While the bosun loosened her lacings, Peter thought back on the evening, her sharp mind comparing her actions with Hook's responses, trying to understand how they correlated. She liked getting her way and one of the many things that had depressed her lately had been how little control she had over her own life. Now she began to see how she could turn her situation around, to make the best of what she had. As she'd proven numerous times before, she was nothing if not adaptable, and she was finally seeing how she could best adapt to life on Hook's ship. _You've got a soft spot, James Hook, and I think I've found it._

She slipped out of the dress when Smee left and quickly put on the old shirt of Hook's she'd been using as a nightgown since she'd been disowned. She didn't know why she still wore it, but she found it comforting now instead of distasteful and preferred it to even her shift. Crawling into bed, she soon fell asleep, her belly full and her emotions calm… her life was more peaceful and secure than it had been in weeks and she was quick to take advantage of it.

Hook sat at the table long after Starkey had cleared it, nursing his glass of wine as he thought back on the evening. He was pleased with the girl. She hadn't even been his for three weeks and already she'd changed from the abhorrent brat he still dreamed of gutting into a pleasant damsel that he was becoming rather fond of. He missed the boy Peter Pan, he couldn't deny that, but he enjoyed the girl Pan too much to regret the other's demise.

"You are mine, Kitten," he purred, watching the moonlight reflect in his wine. "In body and mind, now, you are mine." He downed the last of his drink and went to his bed. He slept fitfully at first, feeling an odd apprehension for the girl that manifested as brief nightmares. He dreamed of her crying inconsolably while everyone around her appeared happy and oblivious to her pain. He saw her fall into the sea, and she floated awhile, like Ophelia, singing her sorrows to the heavens until at last her clothes became saturated and dragged her, unresisting, to the depths to drown.

He awoke from those dreams with a racing pulse and cold sweat on his brow. To alleviate his fears, he went out on deck, but felt his fears only heighten when Peter strangely wasn't there. Uneasy at his own concern, he nevertheless made his way to her cabin and quietly peeked in on her. When he saw her sleeping peacefully, a small smile on her lips, he felt his apprehension leave him and he returned to his own bed, smiling derisively at his own foolishness. But he slept soundly after that, dreaming more pleasant dreams of her, dreams in which she laughed with him and smiled as she whispered her true name in his ear.


	20. Voglio Ballare Per Te Amore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Starkey noted with a touch of irritation that Jukes wasn't at breakfast, so once he'd choked down his own lukewarm gruel he quickly made his way to the gunner's workshop. The gentleman pirate had no doubt the boy was still there given that Billy hadn't slept in his hammock last night. _He'd better be finishing my new sword,_ the man thought sourly. The door to the workroom was still standing wide open, and through the portal Starkey could see the young pirate was sitting at a small table, working. _The lad works too much… he's going to put himself in an early grave if he doesn't learn moderation._ All the men liked Jukes; he'd earned their respect with his sharp mind, hard work ethic, and his ability to stay out of the way. Hook himself held a grudging respect and tolerance for the boy, and considering how much he hated children, that was saying quite a lot about Billy Jukes.

Starkey knocked on the door frame, watching the boy bent over the table. Billy raised his hand distractedly, gesturing for him to enter without bothering to look up. Starkey shook his head in mild annoyance. He always resented having to ask permission from a mere boy to enter this cabin. As much as he liked Jukes, he still felt that giving a young lad a distinction like that would swell the boy's head and cause him to put on airs. Only someone of rank like Captain Hook or a maiden like Lady Pan had the right to their own personal spaces on the ship. Mason and Cookson both had special skills, and neither of them got the same consideration as Jukes. But then again, Starkey remembered being on the receiving end of one of Jukes's tirades when he'd interrupted the boy's work, and he remembered that sometimes it was prudent to give ground to maintain peace. Hook himself had ceded this area to the boy, and Starkey wasn't about to gainsay the man.

"Is my rapier quite done yet, Mr. Jukes? I'm fed up with this crude lump of rust," he rattled the cutlass at his side in disgust. Really, it was demeaning to be reduced to a common buccaneer's sword, but he didn't regret losing his old one. It had been destroyed in the name of chivalry, a valiant and noble blade in the end. It didn't matter if the girl was Peter Pan or the Queen of England, he wasn't going to stand there and allow that overbearing fairy harm a defenseless young girl. He might be a pirate now, but he'd been raised a gentleman.

Billy looked up with a surprised expression. "Starkey! Hey! Rapier?" He concentrated a moment, gathering his scattered thoughts. "Oh! It's almost done," he smiled sheepishly, pointing to the half-hilted sword lying on another workbench. "I kinda got distracted."

"Why don't you get un-distracted and finish your task!" Starkey snapped. "My weapon was the driving purpose for our raid on the fair, and the Captain himself ordered you to make it your top priority!" He hefted the new sword, appraising it carefully. It still needed a lot of work, but he liked what he saw so far. When Jukes didn't reply, he set the blade back on the table and glared at the boy.

Billy was once more hunched over the table, writing and muttering to himself. There was a newly forged blade lying across the table before him, and as Starkey approached he saw that Billy was bent over a large slate, furiously chalking down designs and promptly wiping most of them away. They were hilt designs, apparently for this other sword. The pirate noted that they were all rather elaborate, which seemed odd for a pirate's sword.

"Lovely blade," Starkey murmured, feeling a touch of jealousy as he laid his hand on it. Quick as a viper, Jukes's hand snapped out, pinning the blade to the table to prevent Starkey from lifting it.

"Not yours," he snapped, glaring at the man. Starkey could see the boy was frazzled, circles under his eyes bearing silent testimony that he was exhausted. It wasn't terribly uncommon to see him in this state – between his nightmares and his inspiration, the boy often took spells of insomnia.

Deeming it prudent to ignore the boy's crankiness if he ever wanted to see his own weapon completed, Starkey took a moment to examine the hilt designs that Billy hadn't wiped out yet. "Not mine, then," he answered, "but too small for Hook or Mason. Smee's far too fond of his own blade to take a new one and Cookson prefers mallets and cleavers. Mullins? No, your hilts are too delicate for him to use… yours then?" There was nothing wrong with Jukes making a fine sword for himself; the odd thing was that the boy had ample opportunity to do so but never did.

Billy chuckled distractedly. "No, not mine. I'd love this sword, but she isn't meant for me… she's too fine and I'm too rough. She'll take _my_ hand too if I try to wield her."

 _My hand too?_ _What is he blathering about?_ To Starkey's knowledge, no one had lost a hand recently. "Well, whose is it then? Who is important enough that you'd shirk your duty and make them a noncommissioned sword? None of the men would want something this effeminate…" he paused, a sudden though making his lips curl up into a smile. "Are you making this for Miss Pan?"

"Peter?" Billy repeated, blinking in confusion. He looked down at the blade as if seeing it for the first time. His fevered thoughts calmed, smoothing out and becoming clearer. _Yes, it's hers, I can feel it…_ While he'd been forging the blade, he'd been working on pure instinct, knowing what to do with the hot steel without even thinking about it. He remembered now that his thoughts had been on Peter the entire time, so his hands must have shaped the blade for her in response to his preoccupation. He hadn't realized who it was meant for, all he'd known was that he had to make it and that it had to be perfect. "It's for Peter. That's why I couldn't hilt it! I was trying to make it for a pirate's hand. She's not a pirate… she's something else."

"And what might that be?" Starkey pressed, bemused by the dreamy look on Jukes's face. He knew what she was, but he was curious to know what Billy thought of her. The boy was obviously besotted with Pan, and Starkey thought it was positively delightful.

"She's wonderful," Billy sighed, shaking his head. "She terrifies me."

"Did you sleep at all last night?" Starkey asked when Billy rubbed his eyes, smearing chalk on his cheeks.

"Tried, but I needed to finish… even in my dreams I saw the sword. I _have_ to finish it. She needs protection. I got up after an hour or so of sleep and put the edge and polish on the blade. Been trying to hilt it but everything seemed _wrong_. But now," his eyes became distant, "I think I know what to do now. Something that suits her, simple but elegant… beautiful but useful. She doesn't seem to care for ornaments. Silver pommel and guard, Neverwood hilt – Neverwood's strong and soft, a good comfortable grip…" he trailed off, contemplating the design and possible engravings he'd add.

"If you like Miss Pan so much, I'm sure presenting her with this will go a long way towards winning her heart," Starkey chuckled. He was a romantic, and the thought of Jukes and Pan had a definite appeal. It was rather like Romeo and Juliet, or, given their racial differences, Othello and Desdemona. Rather depressing stories, both of them, but most love stories were.

"I don't like her!" Billy snapped, not meeting Starkey's eyes. He knew it was a lie… he did like her and he couldn't stand her.

"You liked the girl well enough when we captured her," the man reminded him dryly. "Remember the toast? You seemed happy at the thought of…what was it?... making her a woman one day?" He smiled when Billy's face turned an amazingly darker shade. "I see you do. So what's changed?"

" _She's_ changed! I've changed! When Oberon took me, she was a scrawny little girl I had a crush on. They did things to both of us… they made her grow and they made me See things! I saw her magic and I saw her soul! I'm scared of what she is and what she's capable of. All that power… she's not even completely human!" Billy struggled for a moment, trying to explain the essence of what he'd seen that day and still unable to put it into words. Maybe if he knew a fairy tongue, he could have enunciated it; alas, there were no human concepts that could describe her. "And when my eyes were normal again, the Peter Pan I knew was gone. Now she's a She, with…" he flushed again, his hands waving wildly in curves suggesting a feminine outline, "and she's got… and…" he abruptly clenched his fists, laying them on the table. "She scares me, and I don't know what to do. I feel… weird around her."

Starkey chuckled, sitting down at the table beside the boy. _Ah, young love,_ he thought wistfully, remembering fondly some of the romantic interludes of his own youth. "Billy, my young shipmate, if you'd like some advice on courting the Mistress Pan, I'm at your service."

"Courting?" Billy repeated suspiciously. "I don't want to court her! I've been avoiding her ever since she woke up!"

Starkey ignored him. "First, you're going to eat. Next you're taking a nap. Cap'n'll understand you were working all night and let you rest. When you're up and fresh, we'll see about getting you some quality time with Miss Pan." Starkey frowned. "She'll be a bit trickier than other women, she obviously doesn't like most feminine things and she's still as crude as a pirate at times… but I'm working on that. My two students, falling in love!"

"Now wait just a minute!" Billy protested, not thinking he _or_ Pan were quite old enough for that… much less ready for it. But Starkey grabbed his elbow and pulled him to his feet. He didn't fight, strangely intrigued and repelled at the same time, the two emotions warring him into uselessness. Starkey continued to yammer at him, plotting ways to get them together and giving the boy small tips on manners and grooming. "Just don't tell anyone about this, 'specially not Mullins, okay?" Billy said at last, giving in.

"Of course not," Starkey answered, not really listening as he dragged Billy to the galley. Once the boy was fed and sent to his hammock for a much-needed rest, Starkey went to the Captain to make a not-altogether unreasonable request. Pan's education was still very much in the early stages, but Starkey had just thought of an excellent lesson he could give the girl, one that he could get Jukes to help him with and thereby give the two youngsters some time to get to know one another better.

Several hours later Billy was fed and rested, and he was immensely thankful for the strength both food and sleep gave him as he stared at a very red-faced and angry Peter Pan. _She really_ is _pretty when she's angry. Thank God for the collar, though,_ Billy mused, smiling vacantly at the girl. His smile seemed to incense her further, and he marveled at the way her eyes flashed and how her flushed cheeks seemed to make her even lovelier. She seemed so alive!

"I will _not_ , especially not with _him_!" Peter snarled, glaring at Starkey. "I know how to dance, I don't need lessons, and I'll dance naked for trolls before I dance with Billy Jukes."

"Captain Hook himself has agreed that you should be taught the proper forms of dance," Starkey said calmly, keeping the tremor out of his voice. He knew she couldn't harm him, but whenever she was angry he still had flashbacks of when she tried to strangle him. "There are rules to learn that govern dancing and the balls you will attend. There are formal steps to perform while dancing, and if you do not learn them you will make a proper fool of yourself."

"Fine, I'll learn to dance, but why can't _you_ teach me?" Peter groused, pointedly not looking to Billy.

"Mr. Jukes is a fine dancer," Starkey tried to assure her. He didn't know why Pan was so dead set against Jukes, but if the boy had done something to anger her, now would be a good chance for him to make peace. "I taught him myself, so he's learned from the best. I need to watch the two of you from the side to give you pointers. Besides, Billy lacks experience leading, so this lesson will benefit him, too."

"I'll not participate in anything that Jukes leads in," Peter sneered.

 _Oh for the love of…_ Billy felt his bemusement break as annoyance at her hardheadedness overcame him. He knew one way to get the girl to agree… either that, or she would get so pissed off that she'd never speak to him again, and considering she was almost that way now, it hardly mattered. "See? I told you she was scared," Billy laughed, grinning now at Starkey.

"Scared? I'm not afraid of anything!" Peter shot back, standing up straight and glaring.

"You're just a silly girl that's afraid to show how dumb she is when she can't even learn to dance from a pirate," Billy taunted. Appeals to her rationality weren't working, so it was time to appeal to her ego. And Pan's ego was easy to hit, being such a large target.

"I'm not stupid nor am I afraid, Billy Jukes, and even as a girl I'm more of a man than you are!"

"Prove it," Billy answered calmly. He somehow managed to quell his own nervousness as he held out his hands to her. _She's collared, she can't attack me, and she's so pissed right now it won't matter if she gets any angrier._ There was a certain calming quality about knowing things could hardly get worse. "Prove me wrong and dance with me. I promise I won't be disappointed if you win." Her face was nearly purple with indignation. "Please, Miss Pan?" his voice softened, "I'd also like to apologize to you for being such an idiot yesterday."

Peter cocked her head to the side, looking at Billy with sudden interest. She really did want to get along with him, and an apology would go a long way towards smoothing out her anger at him. But she suspected he was being made to apologize to her, probably Hook's idea, and she had no interest in hearing yet another insincere apology from someone on this ship. "Alright," she said at last, deciding to hear what he had to say and get it over with. "You want to dance, Billy, let's dance."

She walked up to him, holding her hands out awkwardly, unsure of what to do with them. She _did_ know how to dance, several fairy ceremonies required her to do it, but she'd always danced alone. She startled more than she liked when Jukes gently grabbed her wrists, and for a moment she tried to pull away. The boy held on, giving the girl a glimpse of how surprisingly strong he really was. When she quit pulling against him, he guided her left hand to his right shoulder, holding her right hand in his left. She tried to step back again when his free hand found its way to her hip, but he merely held on and pulled her closer.

"Don't be afraid," he said softly, feeling a little bolder. She was skittish and unsure, and seeing her that way made him feel a lot more confident in himself.

"Me? Afraid? Certainly not of you," Peter chuckled breathlessly, feeling extremely uncomfortable that the pirate boy was touching her and holding her so close. "You don't have your hammer."

Billy flushed at that comment and looked away. Starkey spared him from having to say anything by choosing that moment to start playing his flute. He felt a surge of gratitude towards the man and began to explain the steps to Peter, noting with relief that she seemed to be paying attention. Maybe this would go alright after all.

Peter winced at the sound of Starkey's flute but refrained from making any remarks about his dubious ability to play. She wasn't sure if she liked the man; she hated his lessons on hairstyles, makeup and dress but he _had_ protected her from Oberon, and that counted a lot more than he probably realized. So instead of paying attention to the music, Peter focused on Billy, listening to his explanations for the dance they were going to attempt. If she was going to do this, she was going to get it right and prove Billy wrong. Despite Hook's attempts to change her, she was still Peter Pan, and she could do anything she set her mind to. Once she thought she had the basics down, she nodded and he stepped, counting the beats while Peter did her best to follow.

Billy grimaced when Peter promptly trod on his foot, but he continued to dance as if nothing had happened. "I am sorry I was so horrible to you yesterday," he said softly, meeting her eyes at last.

"Good," she snapped, still suspecting he was being coerced into apologizing. "I know you don't like me, Mr. Jukes, and I don't expect you to. I'm sure most of your shipmates don't want me here, and the only reason this crew hasn't scuppered me is because Hook's having too much fun at my expense. Don't worry, I said I'd stay away from you and I meant it. You can go now if you want and I'll tell Hook we're fine friends so he won't make you pretend to be nice."

"What?" Billy asked, his genuine confusion making him miss a step and once more Peter's booted heel stomped on his foot. He yelped and hurriedly got back in step, ignoring the ache in his foot. "I'm not pretending to be nice, and I _am_ sorry about yesterday! I just get like that when I'm working. I get so wrapped up in my project… I don't know; I just get frustrated and angry when someone breaks my concentration. The crew knows to leave me alone. When you interrupted me, I saw you as the old Peter Pan, the one that always made mischief and ruined my projects. It was wrong and I'm sorry…" he trailed off, knowing his apology and explanation were woefully inadequate. Starkey had warned him that apologizing to a woman was tricky business and that he'd have to bend low to get back in her good graces. Billy just hoped Peter still had enough of a boy's mentality to accept his apology and forget about yesterday.

Peter looked at Billy, a small smile playing on her lips. "You… you saw me as my old self? Really and truly?" It made her feel good somehow that at least one pirate still remembered her as she had been and could still see it. She preferred that version of herself over this overgrown girl she'd become.

"Aye," Billy answered, mystified at her sudden change of mood. He wasn't sure why what he'd said had pleased her, but he decided to take advantage of it. "I'd have sworn you were the old Pan from weeks ago, come to steal something from my workshop to help Twins' inventions." Peter's smile broadened so he pressed on. "I even expected you to come at me with your dagger, crowing and flying about the cabin."

"You didn't see Miss Pan at all? Not even a little bit?"

"Didn't even notice you were wearing a dress," Billy swore, but that was a lie. He'd noticed the dress, he just hadn't cared. But she was smiling now and he was beginning to get an idea of how much she disliked her new life as a girl. He suddenly felt very sad for her.

"Thanks, Billy," she said softly, moving in time with him without even thinking about it. "I miss being me, the real me, and I'm glad to know some piece of me hasn't changed. Promise me you'll help me remember who I was and I'll forgive you for anything."

"It's a deal," he swore, relaxing into the dance. He decided not to push his luck any further and contented himself with his newfound peace with the girl. They continued to dance as he guided her though the basic steps. Peter seemed just as content as Billy and followed his lead, smiling in delight when she went several measures without stepping on his toes again. They glided along in harmony, and when Billy unexpectedly twirled her, Peter adjusted and completed the move, laughing triumphantly at her cleverness in keeping pace. Despite this being a lesson, both were having fun.

Hook watched the two children dance, smiling in approval of Peter's natural grace. She still occasionally missed a step, but she didn't injure Jukes's foot again. Billy was a fairer dancer than Hook had realized, and the captain approved of any activity that gave a young man a more sophisticated air. When at last the dance was done and Starkey lowered his flute, Billy bowed formally to Peter, gaining another notch of esteem with the captain. Hook felt more than a touch of annoyance when Peter, flushed from the exertion and looking a trifle confused, returned the masculine bow.

"I see I never did teach you to curtsey, Kitten," Hook said dryly. Peter's flush deepened, remembering the day she'd fought with Wendy. Hook had demanded an apology and a curtsey then, and never carried through on his vow to teach her to do it. "Very good, Mr. Jukes, you dance rather well for an ill-bred cannon jockey. However, I have a few things I need to discuss with you in your workroom. Please wait for me there."

"Aye, sir," Billy answered, his pleasure at Hook's rare praise warring with his dread of what the man wanted to discuss. Generally, discussions in private with Hook were not good things. "You did great, Miss Pan, and I must say you proved me wrong. I'd like to have lessons with you again." He waved and took off for his workroom, worry beginning to tie knots in his stomach and dampen his good mood.

"Starkey, illustrate to Pan how a curtsey is done. I want her to demonstrate it to me perfectly before I speak with Jukes," Hook ordered. Peter glared at him, to which he merely smiled, while Starkey sheepishly performed the maneuver. As Hook suspected, the man was far too adept at doing it. "You see, Kitten," he said when Starkey straightened. "A curtsey is a simple yet elegant maneuver."

Peter stuck out her tongue in distaste. "If you think I'm going to curtsey for you, Captain, you're out of your mind."

Before Hook could get himself worked up, Starkey spoke. "Please, Miss Pan," he said earnestly, "if you don't learn this and show him properly, I'm the one that will be punished for your failure."

Peter pursed her lips, contemplating the thin pirate. She really didn't want Starkey to get into trouble, not after everything he'd done for her. "Alright," she sighed and dipped the captain a shallow, perfunctory curtsey.

"Pan," Hook growled warningly, not at all appeased by her half hearted attempt.

"Peter?" a voice called in surprise and the girl felt her heart skip in recognition of that voice.

"Nibs?" she called, turning to locate the boy. When the blonde second-in-command stepped from behind a stack of crates, Peter felt a surge of joy and relief. "NIBS!" she yelled, running towards the surprised boy. Her target barely had time to brace himself before he was tackled to the deck by the girl. "How'd you get here? Where're the others? Is Wendy okay? What about Tink? I'm so glad you're here! I miss everyone so much!" She didn't mind that she was babbling, too overjoyed to care as she squeezed the boy with every ounce of her strength.

Nibs hugged the girl back awkwardly but enthusiastically, lying on his back with her on top of him. He grinned at her tirade of questions, her voice confirming what his eyes could not – this was Peter Pan, his best friend and leader. Once her frantic questions had been asked and she relaxed the death grip she had on him, he sat up and took a few moments to stare at her.

"Gee, Peter, you look, um…" he took in her thinner features, her dress, and the new shapes under the dress. "You look… taller," he finished weakly. He'd seen her briefly in a dress before, and Wendy had warned him that Peter had grown up some and _was_ in fact a girl. Nibs hadn't really considered what those facts put together would look like.

"Yeah, I'm… taller," Peter agreed, fidgeting with one of the ribbons on her skirt. She suddenly felt very self-conscious, wondering what her Lost Boys would think of her now. She knew she'd changed a lot, but would it be too much for them? _Will they still like me? Will they replace me, like my godparents are going to?_

"What have we here?" Hook drawled at last. He'd let Peter have her fun welcoming her friend, knowing better than to try to stop her. But he wanted to make sure the visitor wasn't here to cause mischief and he certainly didn't want to alienate Peter by killing the brat just yet. "A Lost Boy dares to sneak aboard my ship?"

Nibs instinctively leapt to his feet, reaching for his short sword. Peter rose with him and put a staying hand on his wrist. "Don't draw, Nibs. I'll vouch for you."

"Vouch?" Nibs asked, confused, but he obeyed. Girl or not, Peter Pan was still his leader.

Remembering her lesson from last night in getting her way with Hook, Peter smiled her best smile at the man. "I have a visitor, Captain, and would like to speak with him in private." It wasn't quite asking the man for permission, but it was close enough to satisfy him without losing face.

Hook glared at the Lost Boy, considering his options. He wanted to run the brat off, perceiving Peter's old friends as threats to her new life with him. But if he did that, Peter would resent him and she'd become even more difficult to manage. She wasn't his yet, not quite, and there was still a chance those pixies would give her a choice as to where she'd like to go when they no longer needed her. When that time came, he wanted her to choose to be with him. "Very well, Kitten. You may use my cabin while I go inspect Mr. Jukes's latest project. Keep in mind what will happen to you if you try to leave the safety of my ship. If I have to go fetch your paralyzed body again, I will happily drag you back to the longboat by your hair. Understood?"

Peter smiled at Hook, too happy with Nibs's presence to be perturbed by the man's threats. "Thank you, Captain," she said brightly, dropping a perfect curtsey and throwing Starkey a wink. She took Nibs by the arm and led him past Hook to the cabin, noting that the man was smiling, obviously mollified by her curtsey. "Could you have Mr. Smee bring us some tea? Nibs and I have much to catch up on, and talking is thirsty business."

"Of course, Kitten," Hook agreed. He saw Nibs gaping at him in disbelief and realized how thoroughly and effectively Peter had just manipulated him. He felt a touch of pride mixed in with his annoyance. "No funny business, Pan. My men will be keeping a close watch."

"Aye, Captain, and I'll feel so much safer for it," she smiled, closing the door behind her. Hook blinked when he heard the lock turn and began swearing lowly at her audacity.

"Starkey, have Smee fetch tea for Pan and her guest. I want a close eye kept on that door and if she tries to leave with the boy, shoot him out of the sky." Starkey jumped to comply and Hook stormed below deck, intent on speaking with Jukes about a certain sword and its intended recipient.


	21. Sleeping Beauty Wakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Slightly opened his eyes carefully, afraid of what he might see. When he recognized a ceiling above him with nothing strange or glowing crawling about on it, he found a bit more courage and looked down at himself. He was lying in an enormous bed, covered with soft, velvety blankets. Still, nothing strange jumped at him, and he sighed in relief. He vividly remembered the horrifying nightmares that had become visible to him when the test began, and it was with great relief that he realized it was truly over. A soft moan caught his attention, and he turned his head to see Gloriana curled up in a large, overstuffed chair, fast asleep.

He wasn't sure what he ought to do. He was thirsty and he had to pee rather badly, but he wasn't sure if he ought to wake the Queen or if he should get up and try to take care of his needs on his own. He knew escaping from the fairly castle was impossible, he'd seen firsthand how futile it was, and yet a part of him whispered that he should try again anyway. It's what Peter would do… At the thought of his friend and leader, Slightly felt his stomach drop and his head began to hurt. Peter was a girl. He knew that beyond a doubt. He remembered so many times in the past that he'd discovered her secret, one way or another. Once it had been innocent game of "Let's Compare" that Peter, Nibs, Tiger Lily, and he had played. Imagine everyone's surprise when they saw that Peter looked like Tiger Lily, both of whom looked NOTHING like the two boys. Tink had been really angry that day, and that's when she began enforcing the "clothes stay on" rule. She'd dusted them and they'd forgotten the incident.

Then there was the time that Peter had been bitten by the croc, her leg and hip mauled pretty badly. He and Twins had removed her shorts to reveal the wound and to better stop the bleeding before carrying her to the Indian Village. Chief Panther had sworn them to silence about what they'd seen, and they'd kept their promises not to tell. But it hadn't been good enough for Tink. She'd dusted them that time, too.

But the first time, the very first time Slightly could remember finding out the truth, things had gone awry. He guessed that's why Tink always was so prompt about using that spell, because things could get ugly really quickly when secrets got out. For the first time Slightly remembered Jojo, and his heart ached at the memory of the vacant-eyed yet joyful little boy. Jojo had been Peter's friend before Slightly was brought to Neverland. The halfwit child had been here before even Peter, and Tink would only say that the boy had been normal once but that a spell had gone badly and made him silly. It was why they should never mess with magic, she said.

Jojo had been completely loyal to Peter, following her around everywhere and making up silly songs and stories. Slightly had thought it was odd that a boy could love another boy so much, but then Jojo was pretty odd himself, so nothing he did surprised the blonde. Slightly liked Jojo, but the boy's unpredictability always made him uncomfortable. And then there was the time that the three of them had gone swimming. They were going to go skinny dipping, an activity Slightly had vaguely remembered doing with friends before Neverland, but as soon as the clothes came off all hell had broken loose. Slightly had seen that Peter was different, but he didn't really think about it that much. However, Jojo had gone wild, screaming "Secret's out! Gotta hide it, secret's out!" He'd kept covering Peter up until at last they both put their clothes back on. But even then he'd refused to calm down. He'd glared at Slightly, repeating that he had to hide the secret. And then he'd attacked the blonde, trying to strangle him.

Slightly didn't remember much after that. He remembered that Peter had pried Jojo off him, but the simpleton had kept coming for him, brandishing a large rock. There was more struggling while Slightly tried to get his breath back, and at some point the large rock sailed through the air to clip him above the ear. He'd heard Tink's voice, Tink and Jojo's fairy watcher… Listener was his name, and then there was a scream. He looked up to see Peter standing over Jojo, her dagger red with blood and her face white with shock. Jojo lay on the ground, looking at nothing yet seeing everything, a large red stain growing on his shirt. And then Slightly knew darkness, and when he woke he'd forgotten there ever was a Jojo...and for her part, Peter never once mentioned the boy again.

Slightly sighed, pushing the memory away. His other, more personal, needs were becoming more insistent and he knew he needed to do something soon. Should he wake her? He was suddenly struck by the notion of telling the Queen of the Fairies that he needed to pee, and his nerve quailed at the embarrassing thought. It just didn't seem proper at ALL. Not sure what to do but deciding to figure it out as he went, Slightly sat up. Immediately his head began pounding, but he ignored it as he eased his blankets aside and gingerly set his feet on the floor. _So far so good,_ he thought and stood up. Lightning flared in his skull and his vision went to black, but he could hear a thump as what he assumed could only be his body hit the floor.

Gloriana jerked awake at the strange sound, her eyes immediately going to the bed. Panic quickened her pulse when she saw her charge was gone, but a moment later she saw movement in the periphery of her vision. Looking down she saw Slightly lying on the floor, weakly trying to rise. "Child, what are you doing?" she asked softly as she bent down to help him up. He was shaking and blinking rapidly, as if to clear his vision, but he regained his feet and sat on the side of the bed with little assistance.

"I tried to get up," he answered, his vision returning as if nothing had been wrong. His bladder was screaming now that he was sitting instead of lying down. He squeezed his legs together and crossed his arms over his stomach, wondering what the hell he was going to do now. "I slightly fell down, Your Majesty, but I'm okay now."

Gloriana felt a huge weight slip off her heart at hearing the boy's coherent words. He seemed recovered, and she prayed that he was as well as he appeared. "You must take it slowly, my boy. You've been very ill. Do you remember what happened?"

"Umm," Slightly hummed, trying to think. It was getting harder to do that by the minute and he began tapping his foot to distract himself from his need. "You tested me. It was horrible. Peter's a girl." He hoped that summed it up enough that she'd let him go. Go where? He had no clue, but right now any dark corner would be a godsend.

"Yes, Peter's a girl," Gloriana agreed, smiling. If he could say that clearly, then obviously his mind had reoriented itself and come to grips with its recovered memories. It was better than she'd hoped, but she still intended for the healers to examine the boy top to bottom, inside and out, before she let herself think for a moment he might have miraculously gone through his ordeal unscathed. "How does remembering that make you feel?"

Slightly shrugged, his foot tapping becoming a leg bounce. _Do fairies even pee? We had a privy in our chambers, but would she have something here? Even HOOK left us buckets when he locked us in the brig!_ "Head slightly hurts, but I remember fine." He looked at her suddenly, his need bringing the question to his lips, but just as suddenly his embarrassment stole the words from his mouth. _Just ask, moron! What's slightly more embarrassing, asking to go or peeing on yourself?_

Gloriana frowned at the boy, noticing his short, terse responses and the way he had begun to literally bounce on the bed. "Are you alright? What is the matter?" she asked in concern. By the frown set on his face, he looked to be in a great deal of pain. He glanced at her again, his face flushing scarlet, and suddenly she thought she understood. She'd never had children of her own, but she'd had a great many human children that she'd cared for. They never lived in the castle, having to go to Neverland to dwell on their own, but there were periods of time when they'd come to stay with her for longish periods. She knew all about the needs of human children, as well as their wants and fears. _He's been asleep… he never did… oh my goodness, the poor child!_ She smiled at him sweetly, kneeling by the bed and pulling out a large, lidded pot.

"I need to take care of some things. You're hungry, I expect, so I'll have the chefs prepare you something to eat. Oberon will also want to know you're awake. Would you mind if I left you alone for a little while?" Slightly smiled at her and she could see the relief plainly stamped on his face. "If you need to relieve yourself, use this. There's a washbasin over by the bureau that you can clean up in. I'll have someone bring you clean clothes when your food is ready."

"Thank you, Majesty," Slightly answered, standing gingerly as the Queen made her way to the door. This time he stood without any problems or light-headedness, and he felt stronger. As soon as Gloriana left and the door clicked shut behind her, Slightly frantically untied his pants and went about his business, nearly crying with relief.

The Queen fairly hummed as she walked down the hall, her wings fluttering and lifting her off her feet in her excitement, a very childish thing for a grown fairy to be doing, much less a queen, but she was too happy to care. She was going to see to the boy's needs first and foremost, but she could barely contain her joy at the thought of telling Oberon everything would be okay. Slightly would be safe in the hands of the healers and she could afford to leave him to go see her goddaughter. She and Oberon both would go to Peter, tell her that all was well, and bring her home. _Everything is going to be fine! We can make things right, we can bring my daughter home!_ She lifted into the air again, contemplating how wonderful it would be to have a real daughter after so very long.

Peter closed the door to Hook's cabin, smiling smugly at how easily she'd gotten her way. _Oh, yes, I'm definitely going to have fun with this. It almost makes it worth being a girl, knowing I can get the better of Hook._ She turned around and grinned at Nibs, proud of herself and terribly pleased that her friend had come to visit her. Nibs was staring at her with a strange look on his face, his lips twisted in a half smile as if he'd politely tried a bite of food and wasn't quite sure if he liked it.

"Kitten?" Nibs asked, bemused by the obvious nickname. He was glad that Hook wasn't mistreating Peter, he'd been terrified he'd find her being tortured and in chains. But he definitely didn't like the man's familiarity with her.

Peter glared at Nibs in mock indignation, tapping him on the end of his nose with her forefinger. "Call me that again and I'll have Hook keel-haul you, lubber," she growled, but her happy smile quickly slid back into place. "How is everyone? How'd you get here? Did you escape or did the fairies let you go?"

Nibs looked around the cabin nervously, uncomfortable with being in Hook's inner sanctum. He followed Peter to a pair of comfortable chairs and sat in one, the softness of the seat only heightening his nervousness. He kept expecting the man to burst through the doors, sword drawn, demanding retribution for the children who dared to violate his personal space. "We woke up this morning and found ourselves home. King Oberon told us last night that they'd send us back, but we weren't expecting it to be so soon. I guess they used their magic on us while we were asleep so we wouldn't fuss. We do have two pixie guards – they call themselves Watchers. One of them, named Cob, says he's supposed to be watching me especially close, since they're afraid I might still go crackers from the tests. He follows me everywhere I go, always asking me silly questions to make sure I'm ok. But Cob's scared of pirates so he's waiting for me up in the crow's nest."

"Oberon didn't hurt you with the test, did he?" Peter asked worriedly, memories of JoJo and Billy running though her mind.

"No," Nibs answered, smiling at his friend's concern. "I got a little dizzy and slept for a few days, but I'm fine. We… we all saw what they did to Mr. Jukes, so we've been afraid of the tests. Michael started crying every time a fairy came into our chambers and he and most of the others were positively terrified when they said they were going to test one of us next. I went first after Jukes to keep the others safe for a little longer. I saw you dancing with him, so I guess he's okay now."

Peter felt heat rise to her cheeks, a little horrified that Nibs had seen her do something so girlish as to dance with the boy. "Yeah, um, I fixed what they did to him so he's back to his old inventing self," she said, trying to keep an indifferent tone.

"Good," Nibs replied with obvious relief. "He's actually a nice guy when he's not around the other pirates. Turns out he's the one that told Slightly that Hook had you so that we could come rescue you." Nibs frowned as worry for his missing friend reasserted itself, reminding him of the other reason he'd sought Peter out. Part of him had secretly hoped to find Slightly here with their friend.

Peter thought about that for a little while, surprised. Billy had gone through a lot to help her in her first two days of captivity, but to hear that he'd betrayed his shipmates for her was a trifle unsettling. She decided she was going to have a nice private chat with the gunner later on. "How's everyone else?" she pressed.

Nibs knew he had to tell Peter the truth, but wasn't sure how best to do it. He'd wanted to come here and rescue their fearless leader, or at least to spy out her situation so they could plan a raid and save her. But Peter wasn't a prisoner… she'd been _dancing_ and Hook even had a pet name for her! _Maybe when she hears about Slightly, she'll start acting right. She's been around pirates too long, she needs to be reminded that her friends need her._ "Wendy stayed home with everyone else. The littler ones are scared and we wanted to find out if you were okay. Wendy… she wants to see you awfully bad, but she's scared Hook will hurt her after what happened last time she saw you. Plus, she's worried about Slightly…"

"What's wrong with Slightly?" Peter interrupted sharply.

"We don't know," Nibs sighed, his anxiety making his voice shaky. _Peter will know what to do, he – she_ has _to!_ "They took him to be tested when I woke up and we haven't seen him since. We've asked, begged and demanded to know where he was but they wouldn't say anything about him. We don't even know if he's still alive!" Nibs felt himself begin to lose control, his fear and frustration mounting. He tried to rein it in, knowing he'd serve Peter best by being the solid, dependable second he usually was. "They took Tink, too," he added, knowing that Peter would want to know. "She was with us for a little while that first day, but she was really quiet and wouldn't tell us much. They took her to a different room and we haven't seen her again."

"Oh, Tink," Peter whispered worriedly. Tink had always played the part of guardian, and in the girl's mind the pixie had been protecting her friends from the King and Queen in Tintangel. Peter hadn't really considered her fairy friend might be in trouble too, and she felt guilty that she'd been so selfish that she'd not thought about her more.

"We woke up in our bed this morning but Slightly and Tink were still missing. Cob and Bard _still_ won't say what's going on. I'm scared, Peter. What if they've hurt Slightly with that test? What if he's dead?"

"Don't say that!" Peter barked, going very pale. Her anxiety had risen as she'd listened to Nibs and she had to agree with the boy – she was scared, too. If they'd killed Slightly, they would have said something… wouldn't they? _No, don't think about that. He's alive, you have to believe that._ Perhaps he'd just been hurt by the tests. But if they'd hurt him, why hadn't they brought him to her as they'd brought Billy? So Slightly _must_ be safe, else she'd know by now. But the only alternative for keeping Slightly from them was that he'd passed the tests. _If he's passed, he'll replace me. Maybe that's where Tink is! She's bonding to Slightly… she's leaving me to become_ his _fairy. It's over, it's really happened. They're going to come soon and take my Gift from me and send me away._

"Peter?" Nibs called, seeing how pale she'd become. Peter blinked and shook herself, then forced a smile that was as blatantly a fake as Hook in a dress.

"I'm sure Slightly's safe," she said tightly, failing to sound confident. "They won't hurt him," but she remembered JoJo again and prayed she wasn't lying. The fairies _could_ hurt him and they didn't seem to care about human life at all. _Not even mine._ As much as she dreaded being replaced, she'd rather pass on her Gift to Slightly than see him hurt.

"Come with me," Nibs said suddenly, taking her hand. "Cob'll dust you and we'll go home. Wendy's dying to see you and so is everyone else. We need you."

"I can't," Peter sighed, her heart clenching as she fingered the collar.

"Do you really want to be a pirate?" Nibs asked incredulously. Peter had played pirate before, but for her to actually want to serve under Hook was outrageous.

"NO!" Peter yelled, insulted. "I _can't_ leave, Nibs! I'm exiled from Neverland! If I set foot on the island, the magic will paralyze my whole body. That's how Hook caught me when I tried to escape with Wendy. I couldn't move a muscle, I couldn't talk, so I just lay there like a rag till Hook picked me up."

"So don't land," Nibs offered, trying to find a way around the magic and get Peter home. "Twins will design something to keep you off the ground. Maybe a swing will work. Something! We'll find a way."

Peter smiled at the thought of remaining perched on a swing, the image reminding her of Short Tom on his swing in his cage. "It's so much harder than that, Nibs. I'm in exile, and soon they'll make me leave Neverland forever. Captain Hook has offered me sanctuary on his ship and I have no choice but to accept. If I run away…" she couldn't stand the look of disbelief and betrayal on Nibs's face, so she lowered her eyes in shame. "I can't get him mad at me."

A brief knock on the door, followed by a key turning in the lock, signaled Smee's arrival with the tea. He poured both of the children cups, heavily laced with cream and Neverland's variety of sugar. Peter and Nibs remained silent, waiting for Smee to leave. When the old man finally did, Nibs took Peter's hand and stared at her intently.

"I trust you, Peter," he said earnestly. "You're my leader and my friend. I always thought of you as a brother, and I still do even if you _are_ a girl. You've changed, though, and not just the way you look. Tell me everything that's happened. I want to understand and maybe together we can figure out what to do."

Tears welled in Peter's eyes and she threw her arms around Nibs, hugging the boy tightly. Nibs held her back and she let herself savor the comforting embrace. It was such a relief to hear him say those words. Nibs wouldn't abandon her. He wanted to help, wanted to understand so he could be there for her. His love and concern was honest and pure, with no undercurrents of malice and manipulation like Hook's parody of those same emotions.

"Thank you for coming, Nibs," she whispered, "I'd almost given up hope. I love you all and I've missed you terribly."

Nibs continued to hold the girl, bewildered and worried. Peter Pan rarely cried and he never hugged, so something terrible must have happened to his friend to get her to do both at the same time. "Hook hasn't hurt you, has he?"

"Not really," Peter sniffed, letting go at last and sitting back down. "That's part of what's so horribly _wrong_." She took a sip of her tea, wiped her eyes, and told Nibs nearly everything that had happened to her since Hook had snuck up on her while she'd bathed at the falls, so very long ago.

Hook took his time examining the unfinished sword, enjoying the way Jukes fidgeted and became increasingly nervous. Sometimes the best part of a punishment was making the wrongdoer agonize in his own fear and uncertainty. Billy had a fairly vivid imagination and the life experiences necessary to fill that imagination with punishments both horrifying and realistic. He knew most of Billy's ghosts. He'd tired long ago of the boy constantly shying from him and breaking into wails of terror, so he'd spent two whole days closeted with the child while he coaxed the boy into confiding in him. Billy's previous life had been terrible indeed (not so much from what he'd experienced but from what he'd seen his friends and shipmates suffer) and Hook had since been disinclined to punish him for anything but the most serious of infractions.

Making this noncommissioned sword was not even an infraction. He usually let Jukes make what he wanted, knowing that it was vital for the boy to experiment and create, to learn from his mistakes and perfect his methods. The only problem he had with Jukes making this sword was _who_ he had made it for.

"Beautiful," he murmured, testing its weight and looking for any imperfections. The boy had outdone himself and Hook felt a touch of jealousy. The blade was too delicate for him to want to wield; he preferred heavy swords with long reaches. He could see the old Peter Pan being particularly deadly with this blade. "I want you to complete this sword and show it to me when you're done. If I approve, I won't skin you."

"Aye, Cap'n," Billy answered, beaming with pride at the compliment. Threats like skinning weren't serious, while hanging or lashings were. He had a healthy terror and respect for the man most days, but he also knew which threats Hook would actually carry through on. "I hope Miss Pan likes it, too."

"You are not to tell her you've made it for her, and you most certainly shall not give it to her!" Hook barked, his ire rising as he set the blade aside. "I can't believe you're dense enough to think I'd approve of you arming my nemesis! You're lucky I don't count this as mutiny!" He advanced on the boy, intending to scare the wits out of him to drive his point home.

"Cap'n?" Billy squeaked, backing hastily away. "I never… I didn't…" His rump came up against the still-warm forge and he jerked away from it with a cry.

"Jukes?" Hook asked, worried that he'd caused the boy to burn himself.

Billy caught the Captain's look of concern and relaxed a little. If Hook was _really_ angry, he wouldn't have cared. "It's only warm, sir, I banked it last night. I panicked when I touched it and felt the heat."

Hook nodded and settled back into his customary scowl. "I don't mind you inventing and crafting, Jukes. I admire your genius and I've always felt it was best to give you a free hand in your work. I wish more of my men were inclined to better themselves; I'd have a crew that was worth a damn, then. But in the future, do not make _anything_ for Peter Pan without consulting me first. We're still in Neverland and despite the progress I've made with her, my hold is still uncertain. She is an excellent swordswoman and I don't necessarily wish to see her lose any of her talents, but now is not the time to be encouraging her to continue her old way of life. Once she's tamed and trained, I _may_ allow her to have the sword, but only when I'm certain that everything of the old Peter Pan is long dead."

He frowned at Billy then, regarding Jukes suspiciously. "Why _did_ you forge a sword for her? And why is it that a sword for my little exile surpasses any sword you've ever made for your own captain?"

Billy swallowed, knowing he was on dangerous ground here. Of all the men on this ship, Hook was the absolute _last_ man he wanted to know about his feelings for Peter. Especially considering the look the captain was giving him while he asked that question. To admit to having a crush on Pan would only make Hook angry, and Billy could kiss goodbye any chance to see Peter again after that. Hook would probably keep them as far apart as possible, and if Billy so much as looked at the girl wrong he's get in trouble. He remembered Flint's jealous rages whenever a crewman looked at his mistress wrong, one man had even been hung for speaking to her. While he knew Hook didn't consider Pan a mistress (he shuddered away from that thought), he could see that the captain was obviously possessive of her. Billy was NOT going to give the appearance of being his competition.

"I just figured if she was to be a shipmate, she needed a sword," Billy replied offhandedly. "Everyone else on the ship has a sword. Once we leave, if we get in a battle she might come in handy with a blade. At the very least, she'd need protection if someone got to her. There aren't enough of us on the ship to keep an eye on her if we're fighting." He smiled at Hook innocently, "Don't worry, Captain, I won't give her anything without your say-so first."

Hook peered at Jukes closely, distrustful of the wide-eyed, childish look the boy was giving him. Jukes had lost the natural use of that look a long time ago. "Are you sure there isn't another reason? You haven't grown fond of her, have you?"

Billy did shudder then, his face twisting into a scowl of dread and aggravation that Hook fortunately mistook for disgust. Trying to cover himself, Billy gave a nervous laugh and shook his head. "Shot and shale, Captain, why would I ever be fond of Peter Pan? Mullins says women are evil omens of ill luck, and Pan's been that ever since we came to Neverland. Do you know how many of my inventions she's destroyed? Just last night she came in here when I was forging and interrupted me." He sighed, deciding to throw some honesty in his argument to give it legitimacy. "I kinda lost my temper with her and upset her. I know you want her to fit in and accept her life here, so I figured the best way to help with that is to try to get along with her. So I made the sword as an apology, and I was up all night finishing it. And I danced with her today to help her out with her lesson and to tell her to her face that I was sorry. But if you don't want me to talk to her at all…"

"No, no," Hook interrupted, mollified by the boy's explanation. "You did well, Jukes. I do want her to fit in, and I think having someone her own age to talk to will be good for her. I want you to ignore Mullins, he's a superstitious idiot, and I want you to maintain a friendship with Peter. Just don't arm her until I say it's safe."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," Billy answered, making sure he didn't sound too happy with the order. Hook turned to leave and Billy picked up the sword, intent on finishing it.

"And Jukes," Hook called, pausing at the door. When the boy looked up at him, he pointed at him with his claw. "If I _ever_ discover you and Pan in a more-than-friendly exchange, I promise that you will _never_ see her again – her or any other man on this ship. I'll maroon you, or if there's not an island handy, I'll hang you. Understood?"

"Aye, aye, sir," Billy replied, much more subdued at this clear and believable threat. Hook was serious, and he felt the stirrings of anger rising in him at the restriction. _Not that I would want to be more than friendly with her_ , he thought angrily when Hook left, _and I certainly won't endanger my place on the ship for her. But still, it's not fair…_


	22. Prelude to Remembrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"…and then you showed up," Peter concluded softly, finishing her story. It hadn't taken long to tell at all, but that was because she'd been vague about some things – especially about her memories of Liam. It bothered her that she couldn't confide in her own second-in-command to the same extent that she'd confided in Hook, but she knew that Nibs wouldn't understand what she'd been through. She didn't want to fill his head with images that would taint his innocence. She missed her own innocence too much to want to divest anyone else of it.

Nibs remained silent for several long minutes, turning over the information one piece at a time. "So you can't escape at all," he said slowly, not wanting to admit it but seeing no alternative to his friend's plight. "You're stuck here until King Oberon says otherwise."

"Yeah," Peter answered wryly, trying not to show how much it bothered her. "At least Codfish isn't being his usual hateful self. I'd rather be free and having adventures than being a maid, but this is better than being locked up all the time like I was the first few days." She gave him a reassuring smile. "It's tolerable until I can find a way out. Maybe they won't make me leave with Hook."

"But no matter what, they won't let you come home?" Nibs asked, thoroughly disheartened.

Tears welled again in Peter's eyes as she shook her head. "No. It's over, Nibs. Until they bring the new Pan, you're the leader of the Lost Boys." If there was one comforting thought in her declaration, it was that she knew she could count on Nibs to take good care of the others. And without Hook actively hunting the Lost Boys, there really wasn't anything in Neverland her second-in-command couldn't handle.

"Isn't there _something_ I can do?" Nibs exploded, standing suddenly. His eyes too shone with brimming tears, but he held them back. He wanted to be brave for Peter, to show her that he was strong enough and that she needn't worry. "Tell me, Peter!" he urged, kneeling before her and staring at her intently. "Anything you need, name it and I'll make it so. There has to be something I can do to help you."

Peter smiled wanly, hesitantly cupping the boy's cheek with her palm. She was touched by Nibs's concern, and it gave her the strength she needed. "You can tell the others what I've told you. Maybe together you can think of something. Wendy's frightfully smart, so maybe she'll see a way around my exile. You could come visit me… you and anyone else that wants to come. It'll make me less lonely to see my friends from time to time. I'll ask the Captain…"

"Who cares about Hook?" Nibs snapped. "If that old Codfish tries to keep us from you, we'll just sneak aboard anyway.

Peter's eyes sparkled with delight at the thought of mischief, of sneaking her friends aboard and having fun while Hook remained unaware. For only an instant did she feel some apprehension, knowing it wasn't wise to provoke him when she couldn't escape his wrath. _I shouldn't,_ she thought in that instant, but on the heels of that came her old motto: _I often do things I shouldn't._ Her fear was immediately quashed, unable to survive her childish sense of adventure, that sense reawakened by the conspiring smile of her playmate. "Right you are, Nibs. What Hook doesn't know can't hurt me."

"You bet," Nibs agreed, returning Peter's grin. "We'll come by night, slipping aboard unseen to visit the fair maiden in her tower on the sea. Never fear, my lady, your gallant knights shall not fail you."

Peter's smile faltered for a moment, but she forced it back into place to keep Nibs from seeing how miserable she really was. She was now the Lady in the Tower for Nibs and his "knights" to rescue. She didn't want this role, despised the helplessness it implied, but she couldn't deny the truth. She _was_ rather helpless. And this could very well be the last game she would ever play with her friends. "Very well, Sir Nibs, go forth and spread the tale of my captivity. I await your return with joy and longing."

They stood and together went to the window. Peter preferred a private parting, and wasn't quite up to seeing the pirates right now. "Is there anything else I can do, my Lady?" Nibs asked.

Peter thought for a moment and nodded her head. "Could you bring me my things, like my pipes and the carvings Twins made me? Also, anything you think I might want or that you'd like me to take for a memento. Um, there's a necklace hanging on a peg by Tink's house… I think I'd like that, too."

"No problem," Nibs answered. "I'll bring them back after I've talked to the others." He gave the girl's shoulder a pat, pretending not to notice how much taller she was now, and quickly flew out of the window and towards the shore. Peter watched long after Nibs disappeared from sight, only vaguely aware when the door opened and Hook entered the room.

Hook closed the door behind him, taking a moment to consider the profile of the girl in the room. Peter's gaze as she stared out the window was distant, her expression filled with melancholy. "Your friend didn't stay long," he ventured carefully, trying to feel her out. He wanted to know what had passed between her and Nibs, and he didn't want to appear intrusive by quizzing her about it.

"He's coming back," Peter replied, turning her attention to Hook. "He's going to tell the others that I'm safe and to get some of my things for me."

 _Things?_ Hook mused. He would have to see about that. There were some things he'd prefer her not to have, and the sooner she let go of her old life the better it would be for the both of them. "So the Lost Boys have returned," he said conversationally. "How are they?" He didn't care a whit if they were well or not – he'd have preferred if they'd never returned – but pretending to be concerned was more likely to get answers out of Pan.

Peter smiled at Hook and related to him what Nibs had said. She couldn't contain her enthusiasm at first, the boy's visit having restored a lot of her spirit and confidence. Hook cringed at the tone of her voice and the flash of her eyes, seeing too much of her old, irritating personality. When she spoke of Slightly and mentioned her fears that he'd been hurt or had passed the tests, Hook leapt upon the idea as if it were a lifeline.

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed brightly, escorting her to a chair. "Of course he's passed the tests! They'd have brought him here if he'd been harmed, as they brought Jukes." He ignored the pained grimace Peter made and poured two small glasses of wine. "He's passed – I always saw something special in that boy. He's too damn cocky, like you, and he's got more backbone than common sense."

Peter stared at Hook, numbly taking the glass he offered her. She had to agree with his assessment, Slightly was brave – recklessly so. He seemed to be cocky, yes, but everyone knew it was a cover. Slightly always felt he had to prove himself and acted brash to cover up his own insecurities. "He was my first Lost Boy… my oldest friend besides Tink."

Hook beamed, taking his own seat. "See? Obviously his long-term exposure to you and the island has made him the ideal candidate. And as your first Lost Boy, it's only fitting that he should be your successor." He raised his glass. "To Slightly, future Pan! I hope they finalize it soon!" He downed his wine, waiting to see what Peter's reaction would be. He was most satisfied to see that most of the self-assurance had faded from her eyes.

Peter just stared at her wine, dread making her stomach turn. It made sense to her. There was no other reason to keep Slightly… why would they send the others home untested unless they'd found a new Pan? Likely, they were preparing him, teaching him about the magic and getting him used to its feel so that it wouldn't frighten or harm him when they gave him her Gift. He'd replace her soon… a matter of a day or so, probably. "And what's to become of me, then?" she murmured, her earlier good mood and confidence shattered as reality pressed upon her once more.

"You'll be cared for," Hook said gently, hiding his own amusement and relief. He welcomed her uncertainty and fear – they made her dependant on him and kept her compliant. He wanted her to be happy one day, happy and confident, but not right now. There would be a time for that later, when she was irrevocably his. "I'll care for you," he continued, leaning towards her. "Haven't I shown you that I can be kind? That life with me needn't be harsh or unhappy?"

"Yes," Peter admitted, setting the full wineglass aside. "But you've shown me that a life with you will be a life of captivity, filled with stifling rules and boring expectations. You'll send me to school. You'll make me a lady, dull and obliging, with all the life of a pressed flower. And then what, what will you do when I've become perfectly boring and useless? You'll marry me off and I'll never be free again. Probably by that time I'll have forgotten what freedom was, or worse, I'll fear it and cling to whatever dreary old man you've paired me with."

"No, Kitten," Hook replied, shaking his head. While the thought of crushing her into a perfect lady was amusing and satisfied his sense of justice, it also struck him as a supreme waste. The more he was around her, the more he saw how unique and special she really was, and how much potential she had hidden in that insolent little head of hers. He thought of the sword Jukes had made for her, and pictured her wielding it once she was grown. She could be groomed into a fierce pirate, a woman without peer and a force to be reckoned with. Armed with the fighting abilities she already possessed and the beauty she promised to bloom into, she'd make a reputation that history books would marvel at for generations. She'd be remembered long after James Hook was forgotten.

Pirate Princess or Miss Manners… two extremes she could be molded into, and he was enamored of both. He'd pretty much decided her fate would depend upon her attitude. If she pleased him, he'd let her grow as she wished, guiding her to her destiny but not forcing it upon her. If she defied him, he'd break her spirit and dump her off on the ugliest, wealthiest, most lecherous lout he could find, use her to get to the old bastard's finances, and leave both of them to the poorhouse.

"Don't be so dramatic," he continued, "Once this place is but a memory, you'll see that life isn't so bad…" further conversation was halted as a familiar, dreaded rustling noise filled the room.

Peter turned very white, her eyes widening with terror and remaining locked with Hook's own. To the captain it seemed she was trying not to flee while barely biting back a scream. Carefully he stood, keeping himself between Peter and the source of the sound, and turned to watch as the fairy King and Queen materialized in the middle of his cabin. "I suggest you leave now," he said warningly, knowing it was all bluff. Oberon had handled him embarrassingly easily on his previous visits. But he'd told the girl he would protect her, and he'd keep his promise if he could. "I won't have you harming this child again."

The monarchs ignored Hook, looking past him to see Peter. She was huddled in her chair, eyes filled with fear. "Oh, Peter," Gloriana sighed regretfully, recognizing the depth of the damage they'd done to the girl.

"You've come for my Gift," Peter said weakly, her voice trembling. "Will you at least let me tell my friends goodbye before you send me away?"

"We're taking you home," Oberon announced. "Your exile is ended and you are to be restored to the island as soon as possible."

"What?" both Peter and Hook gasped, both receiving this information with surprise and disbelief. For her part, Peter also felt a flare of hope and relief, much like a condemned woman who stands on the gallows would feel at hearing she'd been pardoned. "I can go home?" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet in excitement. But her hand crept to her collar and she held back, suspicious of the sudden reversal. Her memories of her former life made her question her godparents' motives. "Why?"

Hook, however, felt none of Peter's elation. He felt himself grow cold for a moment, loss and a certain aching grief filling his heart. She was to be _his_ , damn it! He wanted her and he would not relinquish her without a fight. He'd gotten his hopes up too high to just let them take her away. "I demand an explanation!" he roared, his hand closing on Peter's shoulder. He ignored the girl's questioning look and glared at the pixies, anger giving him purpose. _Mine! My prize, my reward for all the hell she's put me through!_ "I've cared for her when you would not, I've succored her in her need, given comfort to her in her grief and I've been the caretaker she's needed – despite my justified hatred and desire for vengeance. I deserve to know why she's being freed. You promised her to _me_!"

"I'm not a thing to be given," Peter protested hotly, but she was ignored by the three adults.

"I promised her to you on the condition that Peter had deliberately deceived us," Oberon said patiently, though his eyes burned with rage at Hook's possessive hold on his goddaughter. "We have discovered that this was not the case. Fairy Tinker Bell has confessed to treason. She coerced Peter into hiding her gender from us. She lied to her sovereigns about Peter's true nature, seeking prestige as the bringer of the Pan. She used dangerous magic on numerous children, illegally altering their memories to cover up her crimes. She's endangered the life of the Pan, the Lost Boys, and no less than five Indians with that illegal magic."

Gloriana interrupted her husband, seeing the he was becoming angry. "The memory spells could be forgiven, as could her continued silence about Peter's gender, because they happened after she was bound to her Pan. A fairy bound to a Pan is loyal _only_ to the Pan and cannot be held for treason for acting against the monarchy if it was done in her Pan's interests. She _is_ guilty of treason, however, because she knew Peter was female even before she brought the girl to us. She lied to us before the bonding. Peter wanted to tell us the truth, but Tinker Bell played upon the child's fears and coerced her into remaining silent. After the bond, she endangered her Pan by using the memory spells on her. She didn't do it to protect Peter, she did it to hide her crimes. She betrayed her monarchs, her people, and her Pan. The only fitting punishment is death."

"Death?" Peter echoed, her voice filled with horror and fear. She loved Tink and, despite the list of crimes, she couldn't bear the thought of her pixie being killed. "You can't! You can't hurt her, she's my friend!"

"Peter," Oberon soothed, knowing this was difficult for the girl. "She betrayed you…"

"No she didn't!" Peter snapped. Her hands flew to her mouth, realizing the truth of the words. "She didn't betray me," she said softly, trying to make the vague feelings into a memory. Thinking about what Oberon and Gloriana had told her, she realized that it didn't feel right. Even though she couldn't remember, she felt that everything they had said was a lie. "I – I think I betrayed her…" she said weakly, her voice growing distant as she struggled to make sense of it.

Hook's eyes gleamed, seeing opportunity. If Peter was guilty, then she would be his once and for all. "What is it? Did you lie, Pan? Is Tinker Bell innocent?"

"Yes," Peter whispered faintly. Hook grinned in triumph while the King and Queen gasped in horror. Then she shook herself, pulling her shoulder away from Hook's grip and stepping back, distancing herself from every one in the room. She couldn't trust any of them, not a single one of these three adults really cared about her. But Tink cared about her and she was sure that Tink had taken the blame to protect her. "I can't believe you'd take Tink's word for it. She's bonded to me; she'll say anything to keep me safe."

"No," Oberon replied. "I broke her bond to you. She's quite free to speak the truth."

Peter gaped at her godfather, incredulous at first. "You broke her bond?" she nearly screamed. "How could you? She's my friend and she loves me more than you EVER did!" More than ever before she hated the collar around her neck. She wanted to fight, to attack, to flee, but it kept her from being able to do anything. Her frustration got the better of her at last so she grabbed her glass of wine and hurled it across the room, where it shattered against the wall.

Hook winced at the loss of his wineglass, remembering the night Peter had told him of Liam. She'd smashed a great many things of his then, too. When Peter didn't seem satisfied by its destruction and reached for the crystal decanter, the captain intercepted her, grabbing her arm and jerking her away from the expensive item. "Stop breaking my things, Kitten," he growled.

Tears rolled down Peter's cheeks as she stared up at him. "They hurt Tink," she said softly, not resisting his uncomfortable grip.

"Better her than you," Hook growled, but then he paused. _No, Tinker_ _Bell_ _taking the blame for this is_ not _what I want._ "Majesties," he said silkily, pulling Peter close so that she stood before him, his arm on her shoulder in a friendlier hold. "Is it possible that Miss Bell is still lying? Despite her lack of a bond, couldn't it be that she cares for this girl enough to sacrifice her own life to protect her?"

"It's possible," Gloriana admitted, "but it doesn't matter. Tinker Bell has confessed and there's no way to disprove her confession. Without contrary evidence, her own testimony condemns her."

"What if I could remember?" Peter asked hopefully. "I've been remembering things; you both poked in my head and made me remember. Do it again! Make me remember meeting Tink, and make me remember if what she told you is true or not. Let my testimony stand against hers."

"No!" Gloriana said sharply, thinking of the pale Lost Boy she'd left in the healers' care. "Those memory traps are too unstable and it makes my stomach turn to realize how lucky we were before. We could have driven you insane or killed you! To make you remember safely will take weeks of careful spell-breaking. By that time it will be too late. Tinker Bell dies at sundown, as required by Law."

Hook felt the girl sway, so he wrapped his arms about her, supporting her as she sagged against him. Her hands closed about his wrists tightly and her body shook with emotion. "What if Pan remembers later," Hook challenged, "and her memories prove that Tinker Bell lied? What will you do, knowing you murdered an innocent? What do your laws say of that?"

Oberon and Gloriana were hesitant to answer, conflicted and unsure. The Law bound Oberon as surely as the collar bound Peter, and for him to violate the Law could have devastating results. But there were ways around any law, and they had planned to exploit a loophole to end Peter's exile. The Law required a Pan at all times. Technically Peter was still the Pan, so the Law was satisfied; but both she and the island were deteriorating quickly and needed to be restored to one another soon. The Law also forbade a female Pan, so they were in violation of it by allowing Peter to continue as the Pan. The only reason this hadn't caused Oberon trouble was because there was no-one else to take her Gift. A girl Pan was less of a violation than no Pan at all.

Oberon had banished Peter, and his word was Law. Barring exceptional circumstances, he was bound to uphold her exile. They wanted Tinker Bell to take the blame and the punishment, because her confession constituted the exceptional circumstances they needed to free her. Once she was restored, they could find a new Pan at their leisure. It was unlikely that Peter would ever remember the truth, especially once the collar was removed and she was rebound to the island. But if there was a chance… if it ever became known that the King had willfully ignored potential evidence and executed an innocent pixie to protect an illegitimate Pan….

"The Law says I must die, in atonement of her wrongful death," Oberon answered Hook's question quietly.

"Then why don't you want me to remember?" Peter asked in wonder.

"Because I've hurt you enough, Peter," Oberon replied. "And I think I'd rather die than watch that fiendish pirate take you away."

"And I'd rather grow up with pirates than allow anyone I love to die for me!" Peter yelled, frustrated. She did love her godfather, she realized, despite what he'd done to her. She'd no more let him foolishly throw away his life than she'd let him take Tink's. "I won't let you do it!" She saw Oberon's frown deepen and knew he was going to argue. "I won't dance. If you kill Tink, I won't dance in the binding ceremony and there's no way you can make me! You can't See the magic to bind me yourself."

"If you forget she ever existed," Oberon hissed angrily, "there's no reason for you to refuse." He stretched out his hand towards Peter, and the girl recoiled, pressing her back even closer against Hook. He wasn't going to barter with a mere child over the morality of sacrificing a single pixie's life for the good of Neverland. There was more at stake here than Peter was letting herself see.

"Oberon, no!" Gloriana shouted in shock, surprised that her husband would resort to such a dangerous tactic. But he knew better than anyone what he could and could not do under the Law, and if he saw this as the only way…

Hook had heard enough. He didn't know if Peter's hidden memories would condemn her or not, but he was willing to bet that they would. There was no way in Hell he was going to let this puffed-up pixie potentate rob him of his chance to keep his Kitten. He'd see her dead before he'd let them take her when she was rightfully _his_. Angry and annoyed, he lifted the girl without warning and held her so that her cheek was pressed against his jaw. Before she could even begin to protest, he silenced her by putting his hook to her throat.

"Don't struggle, Kitten," he murmured to her. "I'm going to make them give you what we both want, and I'll truly regret harming you needlessly."

"Captain?" Peter squeaked, feeling the cold steel tip pressed against her throat, just above the collar. It had been so long since she'd felt threatened by this man that she'd foolishly let her guard down. She'd forgotten how dangerous he really was. By the expressions of disbelief and fear on her godparents' faces, apparently they had, too.

"Unhand my daughter!" Gloriana demanded, raising a hand to use her magic to pull Peter free. She froze when the girl gasped and a small bead of blood dribbled from a tiny cut on her neck.

"That was your only warning," Hook told them, his voice casual. "If I even _think_ one of you is about to try something foolish, I will slit her throat without a second thought."

"You wouldn't," Oberon protested.

"I think you should consider who this is that you're dealing with," Hook warned him, moving to sit in a chair where he could see them both. He pulled Peter onto his lap so that her back remained firmly against him, his hook still at her jugular. "I've tolerated this urchin on my ship because I was told she'd be given to me. I set aside my thirst for her blood on the hope that I'd be given her life. I will NOT stand by and let you renege on your promise." He saw Oberon open his mouth to protest and cut him off. "You will do as I say, or I'll kill her and we'll all watch this diabolical island fade back into the nightmares from which it sprang."

Gloriana clutched Oberon's arm tightly, her eyes wide with terror. The fairy King nodded at Hook stiffly. "What do you want us to do?"

"I want nothing that isn't my due. I want you to give Peter what she's asked for, and I want you to uphold your oath to me," Hook replied. "Use your magic to make her remember. When you're done, I'll ask her a few questions to assure myself that you haven't raped her mind as you threatened. Be warned, Peter has already remembered a great many things from her old life, and she's confided in me about them. If I find _one_ recollection to be contrary to what she's told me before, I'll kill her." He felt Peter begin to relax in his hold and smiled. She understood his intentions now and was going to let him negotiate on her behalf. He loosened his grip on her slightly to allow her more comfort, but kept his hook in its perilous position.

"She will tell us what she remembers," Hook continued, "and if she exonerates Tinker Bell, you'll keep your word to me."

"And if she verifies Tinker Bell's guilt?" Oberon asked.

"Then I'll let you have her. Once she's restored and back to her old, abhorrent self, I'll send her a bouquet of flowers in condolences for Tink's demise. After she's had a suitable time for mourning, I'll resume my quest for vengeance."

"How kind of you," Peter said dryly, keeping a smile from her face. It wouldn't do Hook's threat any good if her godparents saw her smiling, and she knew better than to think Hook was bluffing. He _would_ kill her. He'd tried too many times in the past for her to ever doubt it.

"I _am_ a gentleman, Kitten," Hook replied.

Oberon thought furiously, trying to find a way to free his goddaughter without giving in to their demands. If he could buy some time, the pirate might lower his weapon enough for him to get Peter away. "Witnesses are needed," he said, trying to stall. "I'll see her memories as she regains them, but we'll need witnesses as outside arbiters in case she and I disagree on what her memories mean."

"Your pretty wife and I should suffice as witnesses," Hook suggested. "If we aren't enough, I have a crew on hand. But if you think to delay, I'll end this stand-off now." He moved his arm a fraction of an inch and Gloriana cried out in panic.

"Please, Godfather," Peter appealed, desperate to help Tink and becoming more and more concerned about the claw at her throat. She wasn't terribly thrilled at being in Hook's lap again, either.

"Very well," Oberon agreed at last, unable to think of a way out of this. He pulled a crystal from his robes, the seeing-stone. As she stared at the colorful stone, Peter felt a strange vibration build in her collar. "This is our conduit into your mind, Peter, and it's your last surviving magical connection. It's artificial, connecting you to us through the collar, so don't be alarmed at any sensations you may feel. It won't paralyze or stun you from what we're about to do." He opened his hand and the stone hovered in the air, flashing brightly as it spun. Oberon threw a handful of fairy dust at it, and the sparkling cloud coalesced into a large, flat square.

"Gall and brimstone," Hook growled, "what in perdition is that?"

"It's a seeing wall," Peter informed him, her hands nervously clutching the arm around her waist, fingers twisting the fabric of his sleeve. "When he begins, you'll see my thoughts and memories in there." She stiffened suddenly as an unpleasant pressure filled her head, making her eyes water and her ears roar. She squeezed Hook's arm desperately as her vision faded along with her awareness of everything else around her. The invasion into her mind this time was much faster and much more overt than any time previously, and it was all she could do to force herself to relax and allow it to happen.

She fell into darkness, floating in a cavern filled with strange images and voices. Random recollections flowed past her, her own memories surrounding her and clamoring for her attention. A voice spoke to her, a somewhat familiar voice, and she followed its guidance down into the depths of the cavern, seeking that which had been hidden from her for so very long.


	23. Remembrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This fic is based on the cartoon "Fox's Peter Pan and the Pirates", and in this chapter I make specific references to two of the episodes. For those of you who are curious, I have two links at the end of the fic that will give you more information.

A/N: This fic is based on the cartoon "Fox's Peter Pan and the Pirates", and in this chapter I make specific references to two of the episodes. For those of you who are curious, I have two links at the end of the fic that will give you more information.

Chapter 23

Hook felt Peter stiffen in his arms, her fingers clenching about his arm desperately as her head fell back against his chest. "Kitten?" he called worriedly, but she didn't respond. Before them the seeing-wall darkened to black, flickering with occasional splashes of color that came and went too quickly to be truly seen. Whispers of sound accompanied these flashes, but they were too faint to be understood.

"It's begun," Gloriana told him, her voice tight with anger and anxiety. "Now that her remembrance has been initiated, it cannot be stopped until it's done. She'll remain animate throughout this, and if the memory is disturbing she may move or cry out. It would be safer for you to lower your weapon and hold her securely; I'm sure neither of us wishes to see her throat cut because she twitched."

Warily, Hook did as she suggested, lowering his hook to wrap both arms securely about her middle. He glanced over at the monarchs, "What about him?" he asked, nodding towards Oberon. The fairy king stood rigid, his eyes closed and his hands fisted at his sides, and he seemed unaware of anything going on around him.

"He'll guide Peter," Gloriana explained, her worry plainly stamped on her face. "He's speaking to her, in her mind, and he'll help her follow the path of her memories. Remembering is achieved easiest with association. One event leads to another, or some detail will remind you of an earlier event. He'll try to lead her with that, to keep her remembrance calm and controlled."

"And if he can't?" Hook wondered aloud, looking down at Peter.

"The memories could spin out of control, and the memory spells on her mind could collapse. The shock of that alone could drive her mad or kill her. It wouldn't be quite so dangerous if it weren't for the power of the collar. It's our only way into her mind, but it's an unstable magic to use on a human."

"And yet you put it on a defenseless child," Hook's voice dripped with disdain. Tenderly but possessively, he smoothed Peter's hair, brushing a few stray curls away from the side of her face, exposing her ear and neck. "It would be better for her if she leaves this place with me. I hold no love for children, much less this one, but I'd never torture her in that manner."

"Torture," Peter mumbled, and the seeing-wall flared to life. Gloriana and Hook both startled at the flash of light, and they looked towards the wall to see the colors coalesce into forms. The scene showed the inside of Hook's cabin, looking almost exactly as it did now. Hook was standing over a desk, grinning evilly as he used a cloth to rub the ink off of a map. Peter Pan stood behind him, dressed like a boy as she had been before her gender was discovered. Her features were a mask of agony, her body swaying in time to the man's vicious swipes, and she fell to her hands and knees with a cry.

"Hurts," the real Peter gasped, trembling in Hook's arms.

Hook remembered this incident clearly, it being one of the few times he'd had Pan in his grasp and so very nearly succeeded in killing the brat. His men had stolen the Neverscroll [1] and he'd discovered its very intimate connection to Peter. Make changes to the map and Neverland changed; erase the map and destroy Neverland. And Peter Pan felt every single change made to the island as if it had happened to her own body. When Peter and her little friends had come for the map, it had been simple to trick the brat into surrendering. For Hook, it really had been much more satisfying to erase Neverland one agonizing inch at a time when he could see that agony expressed in Peter's cries. He watched now, fascinated, as he got to see that agony once more.

 _"I expected more out of you, Hook," Pan gasped, "I thought that… at the end… you would at least show good form._

 _Hook turned to face Peter, wincing at the accusation. His momentary chagrin turned to anger, though, and he growled. "Good… form? Oh, but I suppose that to lop off a man's hand and feed it to a croc is quite the done thing by your book." Enraged and once again justified in his actions, Hook began erasing the map with a vengeance._

"So you'd never torture her," Gloriana spat in disgust. "I wonder what you _do_ consider torture."

Peter continued to shake, reliving the memory. "Stop, please," she moaned, "hurts… please it hurts!"

"Hush, Kitten," the man murmured, running his fingers through her hair and along her neck in an effort to soothe her. It seemed to work; the image in the seeing-wall disappeared and she calmed down once more. When the girl was settled, he glanced up at the fairy queen. "I consider amputating my hand to be torture. Forcing me to live out my life with that loss, daily reminded of its absence, is torture. Did you know I can still feel it? I wake in the night, my missing hand cramping, itching and burning, and I can do nothing to alleviate the agony. That I consider to be torture. And this girl, the one that maimed me so horribly, came daily to mock me." He felt his anger rise and he welcomed it. His anger fueled his desire for vengeance, and it fueled his need to posses and tame the one that hurt him. "I endured her taunts and pranks, all the while living in fear of a saurian psychopath that hunts me, desiring to consume the rest of me. That is true, never-ending torture. For the harm she's done me, she deserved to suffer. She deserves to die, but I'll let her live if she does it on _my_ terms."

He took a deep breath, banking his anger before it could rage out of control. He often did things he regretted when he was angry, and too much was at stake now to let that happen. Gloriana didn't seem to have a response for his small rant, so he smiled down at the girl. He could see her profile, her head tilted as it leaned against his chest, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "So, my dear, do you remember cutting off my hand? Or did your pixie wipe away that pleasant memory, too?"

"Hand…" Peter whispered, and she began struggling in his grip. "No! Hook! Blood… too much… Nibs!" The seeing-wall flared to life again, revealing a scene that Hook only truly remembered in his nightmares. [2]

 _Peter stood on the deck, her face and clothes spotted with blood. She held a large sword – the Captain's own – tightly in both hands, its blade wet with blood. Her eyes were wide with panic and rage, staring at Hook as he knelt on the deck. The man was screaming, clutching at his arm as his heart's blood pumped from the stump. His severed hand lay between them, the fingers seeming to point at the girl in accusation._

 _"Murderer!"_   
_Peter screamed again, "You killed my friends! I hate you!" She glanced down at the hand and a shudder of revulsion went thorough her. She cast the sword far away from her, sickened. "Nibs… Tootles… You'll join them a piece at a time!" Mad with grief, she picked up the hand, still in its glove, and raced for the ship's railing where she'd last seen her friends._

 _"No," Hook gasped, trying to regain his feet. He fell, weak from shock and blood-lack. His men crowded around him, hurriedly trying to staunch the bleeding._

 _Peter glared down at the croc, hating it as much as she hated these grown-ups that had shattered her heart. "I hope you choke on it!" she screamed, hurling the hand into the reptile's gaping jaws._

 _"Peter!" a boy called and the girl looked up in surprise. Nibs, Tootles, and Twins hovered there, looking sick and horrified but alive and unharmed._

 _"Nibs…" Peter whispered in disbelief, her gaze turning to look back at the one that called himself Hook. The man lay on the deck, unconscious, and the red blood that covered him contrasted harshly with the deadly pallor of his skin. The other men were shouting, running about in their efforts to save him._

 _"Tink saved us," Tootles said quietly, "just before the croc could get us."_

 _Peter turned almost as white as Hook and her hands flew to her mouth in horror. "I'm sorry," she moaned, but then her eyes were drawn to her hands and to the blood splattered upon them. She screamed, backing away from the pirates. Slowly the scene faded as she fainted, falling to the deck and only dimly aware of Nibs catching her._

"Help him," Peter sobbed, "blood… hurt… I'm sorry!"

Hook sat very still, afraid to move or to speak. His emotions were in a turmoil and he honestly didn't know what would happen if he tried to do anything. He was just as likely to kill the girl in his grip as he was to begin weeping and tell her that he forgave her. Seeing that painful day replayed had brought back so much hate, anger, and grief, and he wanted to kill Peter now more than ever. He needed her blood, to exact justice for what she'd done to him. But he also couldn't honestly say that he hadn't had it coming to him that day. She'd thought her friends had been cruelly murdered and she'd acted in self-defense and grief. While she'd wept for her friends, he'd laughed and tried to kill her too, goading her into the fight that had cost him his hand.

He'd thought she'd reveled in her victory. He'd thought she'd mocked him and tossed his hand to the croc as a lark. He didn't remember her reactions, having been too far gone in pain to really notice much of anything. To hear her tell the story later, she'd done it all for fun and was quite proud of her achievement. But now he'd seen what she really remembered from that day, and he could hear her crying at the memory, begging for someone to help him. He hadn't realized the memory was so traumatic for her.

"Please," Peter moaned, "I'm sorry…"

"It's over, Kitten," Hook said at last, his better side winning out. "I'm alive and well, it's over." He looked up at Gloriana and smiled thinly. "You can make it up to me when we leave Neverland. You have your whole life to atone for what you've done."

"I'll do everything in my power to keep her from you," Gloriana swore.

"And I'll see her dead before you do," Hook retorted.

"Silence!" Oberon hissed, his eyes squeezed shut and his features contorted in pain. "I can't… direct her if… you distract her thoughts. Be _silent_!"

Hook was about to argue, but Peter abruptly grew calm again in his arms. He remembered how dangerous this magic was supposed to be and closed his mouth, deciding to let Oberon run the show. _If I keep her distracted, how will she remember her guilt? If I want her, I have to let him dig up the proof to condemn her._ He smiled again, looking at Gloriana with haughty disdain. The fairy queen glared back with smoldering anger, but she too heeded Oberon's order and remained silent. Several long, quiet moments passed before the seeing-wall once more flared to life.

 _Peter lay on the fur blankets, her body shuddering in pain. A large Indian kneeled over her, cutting her shirt off carefully, mindful of the arrow protruding from her stomach. Tinker_   
_Bell_   
_hovered nearby, flitting worriedly. A young Indian boy, seemingly the same age as Peter, knelt nearby, grinding herbs into a powder._

 _"I'm sorry, Father," the boy said, his head bowed over the grinding bowl in shame. "I didn't know he was in the trees, I heard a rustle and thought it was a bird. I didn't mean to shoot him."_

 _The shaman finished cutting Peter's shirt open and pulled the cloth away from arrow. "I care not for your apologies or your excuses, Little Panther," he grunted, examining the wound. "You can make them to the Pan when she has recovered."_

 _Peter's eyes flew open at the shaman's words, and her eyes flickered towards Tink. The fairy paused in her fluttering as she registered the Indian's words. "She?" Tink repeated. "You're mistaken, Chief Bear, the Pan is named Peter, and is a male child."_

 _Chief Bear looked up at the pixie, frowning. "This is a girl-child. Surely your kind knows the difference?" He shook his head, "It does not matter, she is injured and her gender has nothing to do with the healing she needs."_

"No," Peter moaned in Hook's arms, "don't tell on me. Won't go back… won't let you send me back…"

 _Without warning, Peter reached for the shaman's belt and snatched the dagger he wore at his side. She brought it up to her own throat, glaring at him with pain-filled eyes. "How'd… you know?" she gasped, her movements aggravating her injury._

 _"What are you doing?" Tink squeaked in alarm. She tried to fly to the child, but Peter pressed the tip of the dagger harder to her throat. The fairy backed off, confused and frightened. "Peter?"_

 _"Promise you won't tell!" Peter demanded, trying to sit up and inch away from the two humans beside her. "I won't… I won't go back! If you tell they won't want me…" she gasped, the arrow in her belly digging into her flesh as she tried to move, and the wound began bleeding even more. "I can be a boy… why does it matter? I'll be their godson. I can't go back… I'll die first. Promise you won't tell!"_

 _"You are hurting yourself, little one," the shaman said gently. He didn't move towards her, knowing that she'd panic and do herself worse damage. Panther also sat still, shocked into motionless by the sudden turn of events. "I promise I will not tell your secret, Peter Pan. To everyone else in my village, you shall always be a boy. Neither Little Panther nor I will reveal your true gender to anyone else. Please, lie back and give me the blade so that I can help you."_

 _"Tink?"_   
_Peter gasped, looking at the pixie pleadingly. "Promise you won't tell?"_

 _"Peter, what have you done?" Tinkerbell whispered. "You_ are _a boy, right? Tell me you're really a boy! Tell me you didn't lie to me."_

 _Peter shook her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaking as tears fell from her eyes. "I pretended… boys are better, safer… I didn't know at first, that you only wanted boys." She drew a breath, fighting down the pain, "By time I realized it was boys only… I didn't want to go back so I didn't tell. Rather die than go back. Please, Tink, promise!"_

 _"Pots and pans, Peter!"_   
_Tink exclaimed, "You're talking about high treason! We'll be punished if we're found out, we could be killed!"_

 _"Promise your Pan that you will keep her secret safe," Chief Bear advised the pixie. "She_ will _die if you do not. Her wound is serious and must be tended to now. Is it so terrible for your Pan to be female? Is it worth her life?"_

 _Tinkerbell looked at Peter, seeing the blood running down her stomach. But it was the wild, desperate gleam in the girl's eye that seemed to decide her. "I promise, Peter, I won't tell. And I'll do everything in my power to protect your secret. Please, put the knife down."_

 _Peter sighed, slumping down into the furs. She lay the dagger aside and closed her eyes tightly. "This secret will not keep for long," the shaman said, wrapping his hand about the arrow-shaft. "I must pull it free, Peter," he added softly, briefly laying his hand on the girl's brow. "The arrow lies too close to your spine, and I dare not push it through." Peter nodded without opening her eyes. With one smooth jerk, Chief Bear pulled the shaft from her stomach, and Peter screamed at the pain._

Peter jerked, startling Hook so badly he nearly dropped the girl. She gave a cry that echoed the one the memory made, and then slumped against the man, moaning softly. The seeing-wall dimmed, indicating the memory was over. Oberon slowly sank to his knees, but his face remained furrowed with concentration.

"I believe that, as they say, is that," Hook purred, smiling at Gloriana in triumph. "The pixie was not only ignorant of Peter's true gender, but she agreed to keep the secret under duress. Tinkerbell is innocent, Peter Pan is guilty, and you and your lord will now keep your promise to me. She is mine."

Gloriana shot him an angry glare, but swiftly turned her attention to her husband. Only Oberon could find a way to reclaim their goddaughter now. All the fairies, Gloriana included, were bound to uphold his declaration and recognize Hook's claim to Peter. But Oberon could find a way around the Law, a loophole or an exception, and he could exploit it. No one knew better than the King how much a Law could be bent. "Oberon?" Gloriana called softly, trying to reach him. "It's done now… are there any memories Peter hold that could exonerate her? Are there special circumstances that could earn her clemency from the Law?"

"Why, Peter? How could you lie to us?" Oberon whispered.

"Liam," the girl sobbed, and another memory appeared in the wall.

 _Peter was bent over Liam, whispering in his ear. Blood stained the boy's clothing, flowing from lips drawn into a grimace of pain. Slowly the girl sat up, weeping silently, once more pressing her small hands to the wound on his chest in a hopeless effort to staunch the bleeding._

 _"'Tis a lovely name," Liam murmured, "I should like to have called ya by it in better times…. Keep sharp, lass, and stay Peter 'till yer old enough ta hold yer own. There's worse out there than what's killed me ta get to ya."_

 _"I will Liam, I promise. No one else will ever know I'm a girl."_

 _"Love ya, Pete," Liam whispered._

 _"Love you too, Liam," Peter replied. The boy closed his eyes, his breath becoming increasingly labored. Without a protest he gave one more exhalation, and his face and body relaxed as it gave up the ghost. The girl stared, waiting with increasing distress for him to breathe again, and when he didn't she threw back her head and screamed._

"Shh!" Peter hissed, becoming animated again. "They'll hear! They're coming, RUN!"

 _"'Ello, there, Slick, we been lookin' all o'er fer ya," a voice called, and Peter's cries ceased as she whirled around to find the source._

 _"Jonas," she whispered, standing quickly and backing away, nearly tripping over Liam's body. "You killed him… how could you?"_

 _"She's here, boys!" Jonas yelled, keeping his eyes locked on the girl. "He was a liar, an' 'e was holdin' out on us. You were too. Ya lyin' li'l bitch."_

 _Peter's eyes narrowed, and she seemed to struggle with herself. After a moment's hesitation, she turned and ran, fleeing from the boy before his friends could join him. She ran desperately in the darkness, barely dodging branches and trees, nearly loosing her footing several times. She kept to the more wooded areas, avoiding the exposed grassy areas of the park. Behind her came the catcalls and laughter as the other teens gave chase and steadily gained ground on her._

 _"Give up, Pete," she heard Jonas call, "Give up, else I'm gonna make ya wish ya'd never been born!"_

"NO!" Peter screamed, "Help me! Please help me!"

Hook tightened his hold on her, but she continued to writhe desperately, trying to escape the demons in her memories. "Stop this!" he barked at the pixies.

"Can't…" Oberon gasped, shaking. "Peter, calm down… it's not real."

Peter screamed again, and Hook felt a tingle in his arms, the precursor to the collar's defensive reaction. "Stop this now!" In response, the seeing wall flared even brighter, the images changing once more.

 _A younger Peter, wearing a patched and dirty dress, ran down a hallway, gasping and crying. Her face bore fading bruises and her eyes were filled with terror._

 _"I'm gonna make ya wish ya'd never been born, little harlot!" a man roared and the girl ran into a small room, slamming the door behind her. She backed into a corner, wide eyes staring at the door in horrified expectation. Heavy footsteps thundered, pausing on the other side of the doorway, and the door flew open as a booted foot kicked it. A large, dark-haired man strode in, his eyes blazing with anger._

 _"I'm s-sorry, Uncle," Peter stammered, her arms coming up to ward off any blows._

 _"Not as sorry as yer gonna be," the man growled, raising the cane in his grip._

Peter jerked, screaming as the cane in the memory came down. She cried out with the little girl in her mind, over and over again as the cane pummeled her. Hook held her, ignoring the now-stinging sensations of the collar, and he murmured into her ear, trying to remind her that none of this was real, that it had happened long ago and couldn't hurt her anymore. It didn't appear to be helping, but he continued anyway and watched as the little girl in the memory was beaten until she lay curled up on the floor.

 _Her uncle knelt beside her, dropping his cane to the side and rolling her over. Peter kept her knees drawn up and her arms crossed over her face, and she peeked up at him, sobbing and fearful._

 _"Don't ya run from me, else I'll hurtcha ten times worse, got it?" The girl frantically nodded and he grabbed her hair, yanking her closer. "And if ya hit me again, I'll kill ya. Now hold still." His hands fumbled at her dress, ripping the worn material in his haste to get it off._

 _Peter carefully stretched our her arm, not fighting the man. Her fingers closed upon the cane and with a cry she swung it with all her meager strength. The hard knob on the end of the stick caught her uncle square on the side of his head and he fell to the side with a grunt, unconscious._

 _"I hate you!" she screamed, shakily getting to her feet and awkwardly trying to pull her sleeves back to her shoulders. She gave up after a moment and lifted the cane with both hands, bringing the knob down on the back of the man's head. "I'm not your property! It's not my fault she's dead and it's not my fault you're a drunk!" The knob came down again. "I'm not a whore!"_

 _"DADDY!" a little boy screamed, and Peter looked up to see her cousin standing in the doorway. She dropped the cane in sudden horror and fled, nearly knocking the boy down in her haste to get away._

"Run," Peter moaned, crying. "I'm sorry Peter… he hurt me!"

"Remember something good, Peter," Oberon called. "Remember being happy. Calm down… think of your mother."

"Mummy?" Peter whispered, calming somewhat. The tingling from the collar began to subside, and Hook sighed in relief as he looked to see the new memory forming in the magic window.

 _A little girl of about four years stood in a garden, staring at a low hedge and giggling. Two fairies sat in the bush, making odd faces at her to make her laugh._

 _"Tell me a story about Neverland, Robin," the girl demanded, smiling at the boy-fairy._

 _"Ah, Neverland!" the fairy answered, smiling. "'Tis a beautiful island in the_   
_Sea_   
_of_   
_Faerie_   
_. It's ruled by a young Prince named Cory Pan. Did I ever tell you the story of the Ice King, and how Cory Pan stole his Ice Wand and froze_   
_Forget-Me-Not_   
_Falls_   
_so he could have the biggest slide in the world?"_

 _"I wish I lived in Neverland," the girl sighed. "I'd take Mummy with me, and she'd never be sick again. She could tell me stories and take care of me, instead of Grammy. Grammy's too old and tired all the time to play with me."_

 _"Ah, little Light-bringer, you'll see Neverland one day…" the pixie promised, but then he paused as a small group of humans entered the garden and approached. "We'll be back later!" he whispered, and in a blink he and the other fairy were gone._

"Light-bringer?" Gloriana murmured, frowning as she stared at Peter.

 _The little girl turned around, her eyes going wide when she saw the man and woman walking towards her. "Mummy?" she called._

 _The woman knelt down to the girl's height, smiling. Her eyes were bright with tears and she took the little girl by the hand. "No, baby, I'm your mummy's sister. I'm your Auntie Rose. She pointed to the man standing a few feet away, a younger and cleaner version of the Uncle of the previous memory. "This is your Uncle Joe. You're mummy… she asked us to take care of you while she's away."_

 _"Did Mummy go to heaven? She said she would soon."_

 _Rose gave a small, pained laugh and a few tears fell from her eyes. "Yes, she's gone to heaven, to find your daddy. You're to come to_   
_London_   
_to live with us."_

 _"But I don't wanna go to_   
_London_   
_. I'll miss Robin and all the other fairies."_

 _The man snorted. "No such thing as fairies."_

 _"Is too!" the girl shouted, stomping her foot angrily. "Don't say mean things like that!"_

 _"Watch your tone, little girl," the man warned._

 _"Joe," Rose called, frowning. "Not now, please don't start now."_

 _"I still don't like it," the man growled, "why your mother can't keep her is beyond me…"_

 _The girl turned around and ignored the adults, her eyes scanning the hedge. "Robin? I'm ready to go to Neverland now… Robin? You promised!"_

"Promises… lies… everyone lies," Peter mumbled. The seeing-wall swirled, faces randomly appearing in her memory, scenes forming and replaced moments later by new ones. Liam, Oberon, Hook, the Uncle, scores of others that neither Hook nor Gloriana recognized. "You promised!" Peter shouted suddenly.

 _"Stop it, Liam!" Peter shouted. She was lying on her back, the older boy on top of her, pinning her down. She was wearing a dress, the skirt of which was pushed up to her hips. "Liam no!" She pushed against him, struggling to get away, but she was dreadfully outmatched._

 _"C'mon, Pete," Liam whined, his voice slurred from drink. "I got ya a nice purty dress… got us some real rum…" his hand slipped up her skirt, "Ye should thank me proper-like."_

 _"STOP!" she screamed, her fists pummeling his shoulders. In an act of desperation, she leaned forward and bit him, her teeth grinding hard into his shoulder._

 _Liam roared in pain and anger and pulled away from the girl, swearing. His hand flew out, catching the girl across the face. Peter cried out as she quickly rolled away, coming to her feet across the room. Her hand covered her cheek, blood trickling from her nose, and she ran to a window, pushing it open._

 _"Go on," Liam yelled. "Selfish li'l bint! Go on an' shift fer yerself, ye'll come crawlin' back in a day."_

 _Peter climbed out the window and ran down the alley, tears blinding her. Snow fell all around her and the wind whipped her skirt, but she fled onwards into the night._

The seeing-wall changed again, and once more Peter fled through the dark woods, running from the boys that pursued her.

"I thought you were going to make her remember _calming_ things!" Hook yelled at Oberon, feeling the collar's hum again. Peter was becoming more agitated, gasping for breath and moaning, softly pleading for help.

"Oberon, stop this," Gloriana called. "Bring her out of it now!"

"Can't," the king gasped, shaking badly. His face was deadly pale and his entire body was rigid. "Collar… no control… memory spells… failing… Glory, HELP!"

Gloriana's eyes went wide and she stared at Peter, realizing that her King was right. She could sense the layers of memory spells beginning to crumble, each one that fell damaging the next one, creating a domino effect that would break the girl's mind. Quickly she got to her feet, reaching out with her magic as she approached Hook and Peter, hoping that she could intervene in time.

 _Peter skidded to a halt when a youth stepped into her path. He was grinning at her, holding a knife at the ready. She turned, seeking to run in a different direction, but another boy appeared. She spun, but everywhere she looked a boy appeared, surrounding her._

 _"Runnin' in circles, Pete?" Jonas laughed. "Though we taught ya better'n that."_

 _"Leave me alone," she wailed looking frantically for a way to escape._

 _"Fooled us right proper," the teen continued. The boys advanced on her, the circle closing tighter around her. "Why don't ya take them clothes off and let us see what ya really are."_

 _"No!" Peter yelled, ducking and dodging, trying to evade the hands that were reaching out for her. But she couldn't get away and the hands closed about her arms and legs, pulling her to the ground and tearing at her clothing._

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Peter screamed, and Hook began swearing as the hum became unpleasant, nearly painful. Gloriana gasped as a small spark arced towards her warningly, and she stepped back. "Let go!" Peter cried. "Help me! Someone help me!"

"God damned useless insects," Hook snarled, deciding to end this once and for all. He glanced up at the seeing-wall and saw that the girl in the memory was naked, the boys holding her down and laughing cruelly while they made bids on who'd go first. _I will NOT sit here and watch her relive this!_ He didn't think about his actions, there was no time for careful consideration. She was about to be raped right before his eyes, and she'd told him before that when she remembered things under the collar's influence, it was as vivid as real life. He'd die before he sat idly by and allowed her to suffer that torment. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back to expose her throat and lifted his claw to strike.

"Hook! Don't!" Gloriana screamed, fearing he was going to cut Peter's throat. She gasped when she saw the claw slip between the collar and Peter's skin, and her fear increased when she saw what the man really intended to do. "NO!" The claw suddenly glowed, nearly blinding the woman with its brilliance. His arm jerked and the collar parted, falling away from her neck. The world thundered as too many magics collided – hook, collar, spells and stone – and reality disappeared in a blinding agony. Gloriana heard screaming, her own voice mingling with the cries of the other three, and then darkness descended upon her.

[1] Peter's memory of Hook torturing her with the Neverscroll is straight out of an episode of the cartoon. I transcribed this episode some time ago, and if you'd like to read it, go here: http:/ b27. ezboard. com/ ?topicID=

It's written in story format, to make it more interesting to read.

[2] There is a clip of the episode where Peter cut off Hook's hand. The episode doesn't actually show the maiming, but leads right up to it. In the flashback, I picked up immediately after the clip ends and wrote what I think may have happened (and why she threw the hand to the croc). If you'd like to download and watch the clip, go here: http:/ dendraica. california. com/ videos/

There are more clips to be found at http:/ dendraica. california. com/

Remove the spaces in the address to go to the websites


	24. Liar, Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 24

Chapter 24

 _She screamed, fighting the hands that held her down. Panic consumed her, making her deaf to her godfather's calls, unable to remember that this was only a memory. "SOLOMON!" she cried desperately, calling for the only ally she had left in the world._

"Peter!" Oberon called again, his mental voice cracking with pain and worry. He struggled with the magic that surrounded her, trying to break her free. The collar was wrapped about her like a chain, binding these terrible memories to her, forcing her to live them. He couldn't just break the collar's magic, though, because it was helping him save her life, and without it he'd fail. The memory spells were collapsing, falling one upon the other like the levels of a crumbling tower. The explosion of magic from one failed spell crashed into the next level, gaining momentum as it continued.

Oberon was using every ounce of power he had to shield Peter's consciousness against the collapse, taking the brunt of the backlash of energy upon himself instead of allowing it to consume her vulnerable mind. But the onslaught was building and the increasing blows were wearing away his shield and his sanity. He called desperately to Peter as he reeled from the onslaught. If she could just _see_ him, if she could pull herself out of the memory and _help_ him, they both might survive. If he failed, the shattering spells would likely kill him before crushing Peter's mind under their fury.

Oberon saw one of the boys in the memory, - Jonas he remembered the boy was called - settle between Peter's knees, laughing and leering, cheered on by the others. "Troll spawn!" Oberon spat at the youth, marking him. If that brat still lived in the mortal world, he wouldn't maintain that privilege for much longer.

 _"SOLOMON!" Peter screamed again. Jonas punched her, telling her to be silent… but it soon became apparent that her cries were being heeded. Sounds arose, cries of dozens of birds, myriads of wings in flight. The gang of youths began swearing, ducking and flailing as streaks of white, black, brown, and red began to weave among them. In the wake of the streaks, arms and faces were left bleeding from scores of cuts and scratches, pecks and gouges. A large owl alighted next to Peter's head, covering her face with his large wings, hooting softly to her. Peter rolled onto her side, curling up as she sobbed. Jonas began screaming as he fell away from her, his arms over his head, flailing at a large seagull that was intent on removing an eye._

"What the…" Oberon began, wondering at the strange rescue, his attention straying for one brief instant from the task of shielding her mind. In that instant, Hook's claw tore through the collar, ripping it from Peter's neck, and the fairy king felt his link to the girl begin to crumble without the collar to sustain it. The backlash of magic from the destroyed collar exploded over him in a blinding agony. He screamed in pain, hearing his scream echoed by Peter across their rapidly fading connection. _No…_ he thought dimly, her cries stirring him to action, _I have to protect her!_

With the last of his strength he reached out, reestablishing the link through sheer force of will, drawing most of the broken magic away from her and bearing the assault himself to spare his godchild. He was the King of the Fairies and the Warden of Neverland, and few creatures of his kind were his equals in power, but even for him the wash of energy was too much. He felt himself shattered into pieces moments before blessed oblivion descended upon him.

"Peter," he whispered as he faded away, not even knowing if his sacrifice had spared his daughter.

* * *

Hook cried out at the agony coursing through his right arm, up his shoulder and straight to his heart. It hurt more than he'd ever been hurt before, even more than when his hand had been severed. He thought he'd die of a heart attack, the faithful organ stuttering at the surge of power invading his body… but then, inexplicably and with a suddenness that made him gasp, the pain receded. His pulse settled and his rigid muscles relaxed, and only when he'd fully calmed did he dare to open his eyes.

It was quiet… too quiet. Gloriana and Oberon both lay on the floor, silent and unmoving, and he dismissed them as unimportant. If they were dead, so much the better. He turned his attention to the girl in his arms, moving her so that she lay face-up across his lap. Her body was limp, like a rag-doll, her eyes closed and her skin pale. Her cheeks were wet from her tears.

"Kitten?" he called, gently patting her cheeks in an effort to rouse her. An angry red welt encircled her neck where the collar had been and she was unconscious, but otherwise she appeared unharmed. "Pan!" he called louder, shaking her slightly. "Peter Pan!"

Peter's eyes flew open, fixing instantly upon Hook's face. She stared at him blankly for a moment before a shudder went through her. "They hurt me," she whimpered, her face crumpling into an expression of abject misery as she began to wail.

Hook winced at the sound, her cries setting his head to ringing painfully, but he ignored his discomfort and pulled her closer in an effort to calm her. Her arms clutched at him, wrapping around his body in a death-grip as she began to sob hysterically. Hook didn't try to console her with meaningless words or useless gestures. He just held her tightly, letting her vent her pain until she was done. His triumph felt rather hollow now that it was done. He owned her, he owned Peter Pan and she was his to do with as he pleased. But now was not the time for celebration, which was just as well because he didn't have the energy for such exuberant feelings. The only emotion he had the energy to feel was a dull anger, raw and undirected, at those who had harmed his property. He wanted to protect her, needed to avenge her, and he was at a complete loss as to what he should do now.

His door opened and Smee, followed by the other men, entered cautiously. They'd heard the screams and come to investigate - after a heated debate as to the wisdom of confronting anything that would make Hook scream. They were all armed, and each one stared at the man and the pair on the floor, their confusion and alarm evident. Hook nodded at the prone forms. "Wake them up. If they're dead, and I rather hope they are, throw their useless corpses overboard."

"Are ya alright, Cap'n? An' th' wee lass?" Smee asked, feeling more concerned for the hysterical girl than his captain.

"We're fine," Hook answered, his exhaustion increasing. _What in the name of Blackbeard's blisters is_ wrong _with me?_ "Just deal with those two and I'll deal with the child."

Smee nodded, sending Cookson to fetch water, Mullins and Mason to check on Oberon while he and Starkey looked to Gloriana. Billy, momentarily forgotten, turned to his captain. Fear clawed at his heart, fear that increased when he considered Peter's current state. He'd felt something strange when the screaming had started, he'd felt an awful tearing and twisting around him, like the air itself was ripping apart. He didn't know what had happened, none of the other men seemed aware of the nauseating, painful sensations, but he knew something terrible had happened.

"Cap'n?" Jukes called, glancing nervously at the man's claw. "Sir? What's happened to Miss Pan?"

"Not now, Mr. Jukes," Hook answered, glancing at the youth before returning his gaze to the pixies on the floor. He really wanted to go to sleep, but he'd be damned if he would until this was sorted out one way or another. He wasn't letting Pan go until he knew for sure her godparents couldn't take her away from him, and he considered the ramifications of having their bodies weighted and tossed overboard whether or not they still lived. _It would be prudent to wait. I doubt the other fairies on this isle will take kindly to me murdering their monarchs._ But it was still an entertaining thought.

"Um, what happened to your hook then, sir?" Billy pressed, eyeing the man's right arm. "Shall I forge you a new one or try to repair it?"

Hook frowned, his concern over the boy's words overriding any annoyance he'd have normally felt at Jukes's insistence in bothering him. He moved his arm, jostling Peter a little so he could lift it and determine what Billy was yammering about. Considering the pain he'd felt in that arm earlier, he wasn't terribly surprised at what he saw now. The once-silver steel was blackened, the curved hook twisted and mangled, and from the tip fluttered a tattered black ribbon – the remains of Peter's collar. _Well, Jukes did say the damned thing was booby-trapped. I suppose I'm lucky to be alive._

"Yes, Mr. Jukes," he said, lowering his arm again. "I'll need you to repair or replace my hook. I'll trust your to experience in determining which option is best." He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Peter's cries were calming somewhat, but it was hard to concentrate when he could feel her body shaking from her sobs. "Unfasten the hook. Its useless now and I'll be better off without it."

"Aye, aye, sir," Billy answered, gingerly touching the claw. It was warm still and he felt a faint hum that disquieted him. "I think its salvageable, Cap'n," he said as he unscrewed the twisted metal from the man's cuff. He recognized the ribbon hanging on the tip and avoided touching it. The collar was a foul piece of magic and he wanted no part of it, and it filled him with surprising relief to see it was no longer around the girl's neck.

He spared a few long glances at Peter, worrying for her. He felt a strange compulsion to soothe her, to take her in his own arms and give her comfort, to quiet the wracking sobs that tugged at his heart. Once the hook was unfastened, he laid his free hand on the girl's shoulder. "Do you need…"

"Don't touch me!" Peter screamed, pulling away from his hand. "Stop!"

Billy jerked away, stung by her rebuff. "Sorry, Miss Pan," he apologized quietly.

"Go, Jukes," Hook admonished, adjusting his hold on the squirming girl. "She's been sadly mistreated and she's understandably upset. She'll be fine if she's left alone for now."

Billy nodded and left, clutching the mangled claw tightly. He spared a glare at the two pixies. He just _knew_ that they'd been the ones to hurt Peter; every time they came around, someone got hurt. He found himself hoping they were both dead, or at the least that they would be soon, remembering all too well the agony and terror they'd inflicted on him the last time he'd seen them. They'd gone too far when they'd hurt Peter. As he descended to his workshop, he contemplated weapons that would kill fairies and other magical creatures, his vivid imagination supplying him with some intriguing devices. _If I can't protect her myself, I'll make sure the captain can._

Gloriana stirred, her head aching dully as the blackness receded. She heard male voices, unfamiliar and coarse, and a strong arm behind her shoulders that helped her sit up. The smell registered next – salt, pitch, unwashed bodies… unwashed _human_ bodies. She groaned in discomfort from both her aching head and stinging nose, and blearily opened her eyes.

"Begorrah, yer Majesty," Smee said when he saw that she was conscious. "We was beginnin' ta think we'd have ta douse ya awake." Smee looked up at Cookson, who was hefting a bucket of seawater and grinning at her. "Put it away, Cookson, or douse th' other one."

"Peter," Gloriana called, remembering the danger to her god-daughter. She pushed Smee away and rose unsteadily to her feet. She ached from toes to wingtips and she didn't remember exactly what had happened. Things felt wrong, the magic about her had a strained, painful feel to it. "Where is Peter?" she repeated, trying to sense the link to her god-daughter. It was gone, and all that was left along that path were echoes of pain and fear.

"She's safe enough," Hook said coldly, and Gloriana turned to meet his glare. "I suggest you pick your liege up off my floor and leave, before I have you both thrown overboard."

Gloriana blinked in confusion, not really understanding what he was talking about. All she saw or cared for was the sobbing girl he held. "Is she hurt?" Gloriana asked, her worry building when she realized how distraught Peter was. It galled her to see her daughter clinging to Hook so hysterically. _Peter shouldn't be seeking comfort from_ him _!_ But she knew they'd driven the girl to that desperation. They'd exiled her from everyone that truly cared for her and left her bereft of any comforts or love. In Peter's mind, her only hope was Hook. Knowing this didn't make it any easier to behold, and Gloriana would be damned before she'd accept it.

"I don't know," Hook answered truthfully. "I think she's merely horrified by the memories she's regained." He rubbed Peter's shoulder gently, looking down at her. "Let it all out, Kitten. You're safe now, and I'll kill anyone that tries to hurt you again. You're mine, and I protect what's mine."

"Let me have her," Gloriana demanded, stepping towards the captain. "The magic, it's done something when it collapsed. I need to make sure she wasn't harmed."

"I think you have other problems to attend to, Majesty," Starkey interrupted. "Your husband seems rather bad off."

Gloriana turned quickly, ignoring the wave of nausea the sudden movement caused, and saw Oberon lying on the floor, unconscious. His face was grey, his light dim and wavering, and she could sense the magic within him was very damaged and weak. "Love?" she whispered in alarm, suddenly very frightened. _I have to get him home! But Peter…_ she looked to the girl in Hook's arms, knowing Peter likely needed attention, too. The magic had shattered and the blow that had knocked Gloriana unconscious had been merely a glancing one. Peter and Oberon had been at the center of the explosion, and both needed to be tended to by a Healer.

"Let me have her," Gloriana repeated, appealing to the captain again. "She's hurt…"

"Your husband hurt her and I won't give you the chance to harm her more!" Hook snapped. "She is _mine_ , by her own memories she proved herself a deceitful little liar, and by your husband's oath she belongs to _me_. She'll calm once you're gone, so I suggest you leave!"

"I will not!" Gloriana walked towards them again, ignoring Hook's warning growl. "The magic is broken and it may have damaged her. I need to take her back!"

"Stop it!" Peter screamed, her teary eyes opening to glare first at Hook and then at her godmother. "Stop fighting! It's over, you got what you wanted so just leave me alone! I'm a liar, you were right. I don't deserve the Gift, everyone was right." Her voice turned to a whisper, her fists coming up to press against the sides of her head. "I don't deserve to be loved. I'm worthless. No one wants me."

"I want you, Kitten. I've wanted you, dead or alive, for a long time," Hook said softly, smiling at Peter. He put a finger beneath her chin and forced her to look back at him. "I'm the only one that still wanted you when your secret was revealed. I'm the only one who hasn't betrayed you or abandoned you."

Peter felt a small surge of gratitude that eased her despair and grief, helping her to calm somewhat. She remembered how Hook had been there every time her godparents had hurt her, how he'd given her succor. He'd listened to her fears and calmed them. He'd helped her assuage her feelings of guilt and self-loathing over Liam, refusing to pass judgment on her. She was a liar, worthless and unloved, and she knew that the only place she'd ever belong was here on this ship, surrounded by people as degenerate and undesirable as she. It was comforting to know that, despite the things she'd done, Hook wouldn't be disgusted or angry with her – but he'd be the only one that felt that way. Like he said, dead or alive, he'd _always_ want her. She didn't even _want_ to know what Gloriana or Oberon thought of her now that they'd seen what she really was. It hurt, knowing that the only person who would accept her was someone that hated her. It hurt even more to realize that she'd lost her last chance to ever be loved.

"You aren't worthless, Peter," Gloriana tried to reassure her. "I want you very much and I'm worried about you. You're confused and hurt, the memories and the magic was too much. Let me help you."

Peter wished she could believe her, she wanted nothing more than to believe she could be forgiven. She longed to reach out to her godmother, to feel loving arms around her, to hear soft _sincere_ words of comfort that Hook was incapable of saying. But instead she clung tighter to the captain, afraid of being betrayed once more. _They probably only want me to think they care, so I'll give up my gift to Slightly. They only want to make sure I'm not hurt because they're afraid the Gift might be damaged. They don't really care about me, they can't love me and hurt me so much at the same time. Why should they love me? I'm just a girl. The only people that ever loved me are dead, and_ I _killed them._

"Just go away," Peter pleaded, her voice breaking as she began to cry once more. "Take Oberon and go away, he's really, really hurt."

"So are you…"

"This isn't a choice for her to make," Hook interrupted. "She's my property and I say she stays. I won't have you taking her from me, not when she's finally mine. Whether she lives or dies as a result of your mistreatment, she'll do it here on my ship."

A surge of fury seized the fairy Queen and she reached out with her power to rip the girl from Hook's arms. There was a brief flare of light and then the spell died without disturbing a hair on Peter's head. Gloriana stepped back with a cry of anguish, realizing that she was helpless to retrieve her godchild. Oberon's word bound Peter to Hook as surely as if he'd chained them together. She turned to her husband, reaching out with the same spell, and lifted him from the floor to hover beside her.

He lay in the air, limp and pale, and when she touched his hand it was as cold as ice. "You stupid fool," she murmured tiredly to him. "You arrogant, willful fool. She'd lost to us now." Gloriana turned to Hook one last time, her eyes burning with anger. "At least let me bring a proper Healer to her later, once I've tended to my husband. She could have been harmed magically, and a healer can help her if she has." She caught Hook's expression and knew he was about to deny her, but she pressed on.

"I can't take Peter from you, nor can any fairy. Oberon's vow binds us and I can't touch her while she resides with you, not unless you permit it. Please, just let me make sure she's safe." Her voice hitched as a sob escaped her, grief and worry filling her as she realized the truth of her own words. "I never stopped loving her, no matter how angry with her we were; I always loved and cared for her. I've always tried to be a mother to her, as much as she'd allow, and I loved her as both a son and a daughter. Now you're taking my child from me under harsh circumstances. Let me do what I can for her, to try to make things right."

Hook felt his resolve slip at the woman's plea, his regard for mothers the soft spot in the armor around his heart. Gloriana hadn't been much of a mother to Peter, Hook knew that, but he could tell that she did indeed love the girl. He'd known that from the day she'd placed Peter in his arms and asked him to be kind. Most of this mess was her husband's doing. "If Peter wishes it, once she's calmed, I'll let you bring a healer to see her," he answered.

"Thank you," Gloriana whispered, laying one hand over her heart, the other over her husband's. It was probably the only concession she'd get out of the man and for now it was enough. Oberon was Peter's only hope, and Gloriana knew if her husband didn't get help soon, she'd lose the two people she cared about most. _When he's well, he'll find a way around the Law. We'll get her back... somehow._ They faded away, the rustling sound rising and fading with them. A few pensive moments passed, the men silently staring at the place the fairies had been, and the only sound was Peter's quiet sobs and sniffs.

When it was apparent that they were truly gone, Hook looked to his men. "Back to your duties, boys. Leave Jukes be, he's commissioned to work on my hook and I want it done quickly. You know your business. Now get out." His voice was cold steel, without a hint of the exhaustion that filled him.

The men left quickly, confused by what had happened but knowing better than to ask for an explanation. They knew Pan's condition was likely due to the two fairies, every time they showed up, they left the girl worse off than when they'd arrived. It was actually an improvement this time that she was still conscious. As fond of Miss Pan as they'd become (relatively speaking, of course) none of them cared enough to learn more until the captain had calmed down. With or without his claw, he was still more than capable of doing them great harm when upset, and nothing _ever_ got the man more worked up than Pan.

Hook continued to hold the girl, occupying his mind with daydreams of what he'd do with her now that there was no escape for her. Scenarios of abject cruelty entertained him as much as ones of kindness, and he weighed the satisfactions gained from crushing her spirit against those gained from making her into his protégé. As Peter's tears subsided, Hook's smile faded as his eyes dimmed, daydreams becoming dreams in truth.

He jerked awake some time later, cursing himself for dozing off. But he _was_ tired… exhausted, really, and he resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to rest. It was still relatively early in the day, but he knew a nap would only do him good. He didn't understand what was wrong with him, but he remembered the surge of power that had flowed down his arm and into his hook. He supposed that the power had come from somewhere within himself, drained out by the collar, and once more conceded that he was lucky to be alive. If the worst he'd gotten out of triggering one of the collar's booby-traps was a need for sleep, he wasn't going to whine about it.

Peter whimpered and gave a small jerk, and Hook realized with surprise that she was asleep. He frowned, wondering how long he'd been dozing if the girl had had time to cry herself to sleep in his arms. With more effort than he cared to admit, he managed to stand, his legs and arms weak and stiff. He took the girl to his bed, too tired to carry her below to her cabin and unwilling to awaken her. She needed a good rest to distance herself from the horrors she'd endured, and he preferred to be nearby when she awakened once more. He pulled the blankets over her, taking a moment to consider her pale, drawn face.

"Be a good girl, Kitten," Hook warned softly, running his hand lightly over her brow, "and you never need be unhappy or afraid. I prefer your smiles to this careworn face. You've suffered enough, and so long as you please me you'll never suffer again." Satisfied that she was tucked in and resting as well as he could make her, Hook settled into a comfortable chair, propped his feet on a footstool, and promptly went to sleep.

* * *

Nibs finished his story at long last and took a small sip of water. He met the gazes of his audience, waiting to see if they had any more questions for him. They shouldn't – they'd interrupted him without mercy throughout his recitation of his visit with Peter, asking questions that ranged from the color of Peter's dress (and if she was pretty) to more serious issues of whether they could rescue Peter and if Nibs thought Billy would help. But no one said anything for a long while, and more than a few of the boys were biting back tears. _No one's got any ideas either,_ Nibs thought with dismay. He'd hoped that at least one of them would have seen a way to bring Peter home.

"I'll help you get some things together for Peter," Wendy said at last, setting Michael down and retrieving a sack from its peg on the wall. "We won't send too much right now, just the things she wanted, plus some things to make her comfortable and let her know we love her. That way she doesn't have to carry so much back when we find a way to free her."

"Do you really think we will?" Curly asked hopefully.

"I miss Peter," Tootles sighed. "We should bring her some fresh never-berries. Everyone knows Mr. Cookson can't cook."

The other Lost Boys shuddered. A few of them had been prisoners long enough to have been given Cookson's meals and _all_ of them had had the misfortune to smell it. Wendy was the only one who'd been a captive long enough to actually have to eat it.

"Maybe later," the girl said, gathering Peter's things. She removed her friend's necklace from the peg by Tink's house and stared at it thoughtfully for a moment before dropping it in the bag. "John? Can Peter have the pictures you drew of us? I think she'd like that." The boy nodded and handed his sister the small book he'd used for his artwork. Wendy flipped through the pages, smiling softly at some of the portraits and removing a few pictures of Peter before adding it to the collection in the bag. The pictures of Peter were hung on the wall by Tink's house, and the girl continued to put things in the bag. The boys helped, coming to her with odds and ends, some of which ended up in the bag.

When she was done, Nibs took the bag and looked around, making sure he had everything Peter had asked for. Once he was reassured, he turned to the collection of children staring at him mournfully and contemplated if he should take any of them with him or go alone. It would do them good to see for themselves that Peter was safe… especially Wendy. Wendy had been fretful and depressed ever since Hook had left her ashore, and the girl seemed convinced that she'd failed Peter in some unforgivable way. _I'll take Wendy for sure, and one other boy… any more than that and Hook might think we're on a raid._

He was just opening his mouth to say so when a strange noise arose in the room. Nibs spun around, seeking its source as he drew his dagger, and froze. There, standing not three steps away, was their missing friend. "Slightly?" Nibs gasped, oblivious to the other boys' murmurs of surprise.

Slightly nodded slowly, managing a weak smile for his friends. "Hey, cullies. Miss me?" He was tired, dead tired, but he wanted to speak to his friends before he went back to sleep. He'd been too worried for them for too long, and he needed to know that everyone was okay.

"Where have you been? How'd you get home? Did they hurt you?" Wendy asked as she took a step towards him, worry evident in her expression.

"I slightly failed the tests," the blonde answered, trying not to shudder at the memory of his ordeal. "Ok, so I failed it more than slightly. I woke up this morning, the Queen said I'd been asleep for a long time. I was supposed to stay longer, to make sure I was better, but something awful happened and they sent me home."

"Something awful?" Nibs asked, thinking of Peter and the missing Tinker Bell.

Slightly nodded and instantly regretted it as a wave of dizziness assailed him. He'd felt great when he woke this morning, but he got tired quickly. He'd taken a nap since then and was still tired. Healer Peony had warned him that he'd be like this, that he'd have to rest a lot, but he didn't want his friends to see him weak. He didn't want to worry them. "Something happened to King Oberon. I saw him when they brought him back, he looked pretty bad. All the healers are tending to him and Gloriana's worried, so they didn't have time to deal with me. They sent me home, said the Watchers here could keep an eye on me."

"Oberon's sick?" Wendy said, her normally sweet and caring voice heavy with malice. "Serves him right! He's an..an… ass!" Her cheeks instantly went red, having uttered her first bad word, but she refused to apologize for it. _Besides,_ she thought firmly, _Tink says it all the time._ The younger boys looked at her in wonder, and not without a little fear. Only grown-ups were allowed to curse.

Slightly chuckled and turned towards the bed, determined to lie down for a little while. "Yeah, he's more than a slight ass," the boy mumbled. "He's the one that hurt Peter and took us away, and he's the one…" The room twisted in a way that made the boy double over with vertigo, and he saw the floor rushing up to meet his forehead. He winced in anticipation, but unexpected arms wrapped around his waist to halt his fall, and he felt himself turned over to lie across someone's lap. He looked up with a mixture of horror and relief to see that Nibs was the one that caught him – horror at showing weakness and needing help, relief that Nibs cared and would always be there for him, regardless. It was nice to be loved.

"Are you sick?" Nibs asked, laying his hand across Slightly's forehead, trying to detect a temperature. The boy felt normal, and Nibs frowned even more; a fever would explain Slightly's condition, the lack of one meant something more serious might be wrong.

"I'm just slightly tired, Nibs," Slightly answered, yawning. "I'm better, but they told me to get lots of sleep… no flying and no adventures." He blinked up at his friend, smiling faintly. "I guess you're in charge? Peter would make fun of me for being tired… call me a baby. I don't wanna be a baby, but I don't feel so good…"

"You're not a baby," Nibs reassured the boy, glancing up at Wendy worriedly. "And you're right, I am in charge, and I order you to stay in bed until you're better. No flying either, I'll carry you if we gotta go somewhere."

"Thanks," Slightly mumbled, feeling oddly comfortable. Nibs was warm - he liked warm - so he snuggled closer to his friend, lying his head against Nibs's chest. "Healer… visit me tomorrow… some medicine and stuff… just wanna sleep…" his eyes drifted shut while he spoke, his breath evening out. "You smell nice…"

"Go to sleep, Slightly," Nibs murmured, holding the boy and staring at Wendy. "We've got you, you're home so just rest."

"Do you want to put him in bed?" Wendy asked, but Nibs just shook his head. The girl nodded in reply. She pulled a blanket off the bed and draped it over Slightly, tucking it around him carefully. She placed a small kiss atop his forehead, satisfying herself that her boy didn't have a fever, and rose to begin making soup. A few mumbled requests sent the other boys scurrying to gather food, firewood and water, leaving her alone in the underground house with Nibs and Slightly. She hummed as she worked, finding solace in doing something motherly and being useful.

Nibs held Slightly until he was sure the boy was fast asleep, then lifted his friend and gently deposited him in the bed. He sat beside him for awhile, watching the boy sleep and listening to Wendy as she hummed. He had no intention to go see Peter now – he knew the girl was safe for the moment, and she'd get along fine for a few more hours without her things. He wasn't budging until Slightly woke again and reassured them that he was going to be alright. He owed it to Peter to be able to say honestly that their friend was safe at home and that the fairies hadn't hurt him terribly. _They hurt Peter and Billy, and now Slightly. I hope they haven't hurt Tinker_ _Bell_ _, too. Maybe they'll bring Tink home soon. Tink would definitely know how to help Peter. I bet she could take the collar off and bring Peter home, and everything will go back to normal again._

Even as he tried to hope, a dark voice inside laughed, knowing that his hopes were foolish. Peter was lost to them and it was all the fairy King's fault. Nibs turned his hope to darker dreams, wishing fervently that the king was indeed suffering some great tragedy. It would be only fair. Nibs hoped the pixie would die and thus release Peter from her terrible fate. _I hate them, I hate the fairies. They were supposed to protect us, and look what they've done! If they hurt Peter again, I'll kill them ALL!_


	25. Methods of Persuasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 25

Chapter 25

It was dark when Hook opened his eyes again. He was only mildly surprised to see that someone (most likely Smee) had draped a blanket over him and lit some candles while he'd slept. It was much more disturbing to discover that the bosun had managed to remove his boots without waking him. It showed just how exhausted Hook had been for Smee to have touched him without stirring him in the slightest.

Hook felt much better now that he'd rested. He was still a little tired, but the exhaustion that had turned his body to lead was gone. He was hungry now, ravenous actually, but he knew it wasn't his growling stomach that had awakened him. He remained still, listening. In the bed, Peter tossed restlessly, murmuring softly. He didn't blame her if she was having nightmares, she'd earned every bad dream she got. He was just about to attribute her agitation to having wakened him, when he heard the hinges of his window creak as it was slowly opened.

 _If that's not a Lost Boy, I'll eat my parrot,_ Hook thought. He couldn't see the window from his vantage, but the only creatures that could enter by his window were the ones that could fly, and only those with thumbs could unlatch it. "Be silent," he warned lowly, rising from his chair. He turned to the window, not surprised to see young Nibs hovering just within the room. "She's asleep, and if you wake her I'll split your gullet."

Nibs frowned at Hook, debating if he should ignore the man and shout to Peter. He'd come to see _her_ , after all, not Hook. He turned his attention to the girl in the bed, watching her as she tossed. "Why is she sleeping in here? Wendy said she has her own room, but when I saw your light and peeked in the window, I saw you both asleep in here."

"I said be _silent_!" Hook hissed angrily, taking a step towards the window.

"No," Peter sobbed, "Godfather… I'm sorry… no…" she curled up in the bed, crying.

Hook went to the girl, checking to make sure she was still asleep. He didn't want her waking to see Nibs here, and he intended to get rid of the brat as soon as possible. If Peter saw Nibs, she'd want to talk to the boy. Doubtless, Nibs would provide her with comforting words and false hopes. Hook intended to be the one she turned to for comfort, the one she confided in and depended on. He wanted her to accept her fate and move on, and contact with her old friends would interfere with Hook's plans for her.

The man lightly stroked her cheek, waiting patiently for her to calm and settle back into deeper sleep. Once she was calm and he was satisfied she wouldn't awaken, he turned to glare at the intruder. Nibs was now standing by the desk, and Hook noted the bag the boy was carrying.

"Set that down on the desk and follow me," Hook ordered, walking to his door and opening it.

Nibs frowned as he set the bag down, but after another long look at Peter, he followed the captain outside. He didn't know what was wrong with his friend, but he agreed that she looked like she was sick or something, and he knew he shouldn't wake her up no matter how much he wanted to. Once he was outside, he made sure to keep a safe distance between Hook and himself, wisely not trusting the man.

"Pan said you'd return," Hook commented after he'd locked his cabin door. "I wasn't expecting it to be so late in the night."

"They brought Slightly home," Nibs replied. "He failed the tests and it hurt him pretty bad. He's supposed to be better now, but he's still really sick. I've been helping Wendy with him and the other boys, and I couldn't get away until everyone was asleep." Nibs fingered the sword at his hip nervously, worry making his stomach lurch. He was tired of worrying and being afraid, and he wished everything would go back to the way it had been before. "What's wrong with Peter?"

Hook considered the boy carefully, weighing his options. This boy and his friends were a threat to his plans for Pan, and therefore had to be eliminated. He considered drawing his pistol and just shooting the urchin, but that was too risky. If the gunshot woke Pan and she saw her friend lying dead on the deck, he'd lose what trust he'd instilled in her. Besides, killing Nibs was only a short-term solution. The other brats would be more likely to come to the ship if their new leader never returned. Threatening Nibs was also unlikely to be effective. Pan and the Lost Boys relished challenges, and the more dangerous a situation was the more likely they'd take it on. If Hook threatened Nibs or the other boys in an effort to keep them away, they'd just be more likely to show up. This situation required a more subtle approach than brute force and threats. At least, he _hoped_ he could settle it without using force and threats.

"Her godparents came to see her after you left," Hook explained. "They made her remember things that have upset her greatly. Oberon has proven that Peter lied to them from the beginning, and that she forced Tinker Bell to help her hide her secret. Because of this, King Oberon has given her to me to keep. She is my property now, and at the first opportunity we will be leaving Neverland."

Nibs felt a sinking in his stomach as despair settled over him. Peter had told him of Oberon's deal with Hook, but she'd also expressed her hope that somehow her godfather wouldn't have to keep his promise. If the King had verified Peter's dishonesty and reaffirmed his promise to Hook, then all hope was gone. _But Hook's been nice to Peter,_ Nibs thought, looking for some way to help his friend, _maybe he won't take her away._

"Set her free, Captain," Nibs asked, stepping towards the man. "Neverland is her home, we're her _family_. Please, don't take her away from us! If you care about her…"

"I don't, Mr. Nibs," Hook said coldly, glaring at the boy. It was a lie, he did care about her, but he consoled himself that his concern was no different than his concern for his ship or his treasure, or even his parrot. _I feel some small modicum of affection for the child, and she_ is _rather like a pet._

"Do not make the mistake of believing I care for her," Hook continued, determined to crush the boy's hopes. "My revenge against Pan is still my all-consuming desire, and I will see it carried out. Be thankful I no longer seek her death. Taking her away from Neverland and her friends, forcing her to grow up… that is my vengeance. Rest assured, however, that I will give her a new life and will _try_ to make this easier on her. I want her to forget her past and embrace her future because that is the only way she will ever be happy. The question is, Mr. Nibs, do _you_ care about Peter Pan?"

"Of course I do!" Nibs replied, insulted that Hook even had to ask. "She's my best friend and I love her."

"And you'll do anything for her?" Hook pressed, bringing up his claw to scratch his chin and remembering with a start that it was gone. _Jukes had best finish it quickly, or I'll make myself a new one out of his jawbone._ "You'd make any sacrifice to help her, to see her happy?"

"Yes," Nibs affirmed, holding his head up and glaring at Hook. "I'll fight any pirate to free her, I'll pay any price. I'll die for her if I have to!"

"No one need die," Hook chuckled, his mind plotting how best to manipulate the naïve young gallant. "But I want you to listen to me and at least consider my advice. Don't think of me as your enemy now, because I'm not. I am Pan's guardian. Queen Gloriana charged me to take good care of Peter and I've done my best to keep my promise to her. I've made many sacrifices to keep Pan safe, but I can't do it alone. I need you and your friends to help. Will you?"

"I'll do anything I need," Nibs swore, "and the others will do what I say. But I won't promise anything until I hear your idea."

"A reasonable decision," Hook said with a smile. "You're an admirable captain to the Lost Boys." Hook frowned then, his face taking on a worried expression. "Peter _can't_ go home, she's in exile and it's strictly enforced. You know this." Nibs nodded so Hook pressed on. "She misses her old life terribly. She was happy this morning before you arrived. She was fitting in and getting along with my crew. She was in such high spirits that she even danced with Mr. Jukes."

Nibs nodded again, remembering what he'd seen that morning. Peter _had_ been smiling while she danced with Billy. He also remembered how she'd seemed to be friendly with Hook. The man had even been nice enough to let them chat in his cabin.

"But then _you_ showed up," Hook said darkly, his tone heavy with disapproval. "You came back and reminded her of everything she's lost. When you left, I found her in my cabin, weeping. You made her remember her old life, showed her what she no longer has, and then you left, reminding her that she is trapped here while you are free to come and go as you please. You hurt her deeply, boy."

"I did _not_!" Nibs shouted angrily. "She was happy to see me. She misses us and she said she was glad I came to visit. She asked me to come back!"

Hook forced himself to smile, nodding his head in mock understanding. "Yes, I know. She does miss you, and she does want to see you. But sometimes what we want isn't always what is best for us. When you left, she thought about her old life and everything in it that was gone. It was a knife in her heart to watch you fly away and realize that she'd never fly again. She thought of the home you were going to and remembered that she'd _never see it again_. Put yourself in her place for a moment. Pretend that I've captured you and that no one will ever come to free you. Pretend that you'll never fly or go home again. Imagine how Peter feels."

Nibs considered Hook's words, imagining how he'd feel if he wasn't allowed to leave the pirate ship. He thought of all the million things he took for granted that he'd lose. He'd never sit by the fireplace and listen to Wendy's stories. He'd never pick neverberries in the morning and eat them while they were still wet with dew. He'd never swim in the lagoon, or play shark tag, or make cloud sculptures again. No more adventures – he'd have to grow up and never again play childish games. He'd never wake in the middle of the night to find Slightly curled up in his arms, seeking comfort after a nightmare. He'd never fight with the other boys again, or play with them, or even just _be_ with them. He'd spend his days on this ship, wondering if they were okay or if they even still remembered him. Lost… alone…

Nibs sat on the deck and hugged his knees, crying. "Please, let her go, Captain, _please_." The grief and loss were overwhelming, and his heart ached for Peter as he began to fully understand her fate.

"I can't, my dear boy," Hook said gently, kneeling down to Nibs's level and resting his hand on the boy's shoulder companionably. "If I let her go, she'll have no place left for her. But _you_ can let her go… you must. Let her forget you. Let her bury her old life and embrace her new one here. She _can_ be happy with me; you've seen it with your own eyes. But she will never be happy if you persist in rubbing her loss in her face. You have to be strong for her, you have to sacrifice your own selfishness and free her. I know you and your friends miss her and want to visit, but you cause her nothing but pain when you do. If you want to help her, then stay away. Let her forget you and let her be free."

"We can't just abandon her!" Nibs cried, thinking of how he'd feel in Peter's position if his friends never came to visit. "She wants to see us!"

Hook sighed, covering his irritation at the boy's stubborn loyalty. He was going to have to alter his tactics a little. "I didn't want to tell you this. Peter swore me to secrecy but it's for the best if I tell you." He gripped the boy by the chin and tilted his head back, forcing Nibs to look into his eyes. Hook was an accomplished liar, and he brought all of his skills to bear on the hapless boy.

"She only asked you to come back because she knows it's what _you_ want. She cares about her friends and she'll suffer any torment to make you feel better. But she told me, after you left, that she hoped you would forget her soon. She doesn't want you to worry for her. She wants you to be happy and to have fun again. She told me that it hurts her to remember what she's lost and that she'd rather you moved on and not come back. That's why I've been trying to convince you to stay away. She doesn't want you to come here anymore. It's what she _told_ me."

Nibs stared at Hook in stark disbelief. "She wouldn't…" he murmured, but something about the man's expression made him pause. Hook seemed to be telling the truth, but Nibs knew that he shouldn't trust the man. Nibs knew Peter, and he knew his friend wouldn't want to be left alone with Hook… but then again, the captain made a good point. "I don't believe you," he whispered, but a part of him did. "I want to talk to Peter."

"She'll deny it," Hook countered. "She'll tell you what you want to hear, and when you leave she'll cry again. You kill a little more of her heart whenever you come and leave, and it will make her bitter. One day she'll even begin to hate you a little because you have what she wants and can never have again, and that hate will grow day by day. Eventually she'll become like me. Is that what you want? Can you seriously continue to come here to taunt her, knowing how much it hurts her? Are your truly that selfish?"

"No," Nibs moaned miserably. His feelings and thoughts were a whirl of confusion, Hook's words echoing in his heart. He'd do anything to help Peter, he'd give up everything to make her safe and happy. He didn't want to abandon her, but if it was truly what she wanted…. "I want to do what's best for Peter."

"Then leave my ship, and never come back. Don't even fly or play where she might see you. Let her forget and let her move on. I promise you I'll take care of her. She's changed so much already, surely you've seen it?" He waited for Nibs to nod before continuing. "I don't hate her anymore, she's not the same Peter Pan that she used to be. Once she's put Neverland behind her, she'll complete her change. Perhaps then I'll be able to care about her. Perhaps I'll even love her and become like an uncle to her. But I can't if you keep coming here. Promise me that you and your friends will stay far away."

"I…" Nibs's voice caught and he wasn't sure if he'd been about to say "I promise" or "I can't". The thought of abandoning Peter horrified him, but if it was really what she wanted… if it would really help her… Hook had him so confused and conflicted, and he felt like he would cry. He could feel his heart tearing in two as his mind warred with what he should do. "I…" he tried again, his body shaking with distress as tears streamed from his eyes.

Hook's patience broke then. He'd been able to keep his temper lately when dealing with Peter, but only because he had a long term investment in the girl. This boy was being deliberately stubborn and dense, and Hook couldn't find enough forbearance for the brat to keep up this caring charade for long. It was time for more direct measures, and he sincerely hoped the boy would be persuaded before he had to employ the dreaded more permanent solution.

"I'll make it easy for you, then," Hook announced, his voice becoming stern. He stood and drew his pistol from his coat pocket, cocking it with ease before placing it against the boy's forehead. "If I see you again, I will kill you. There will be no elaborate traps or foolish plank-walking. I will merely put a bullet in your head and be done with it. If you come here in a group, I will shoot the youngest first. If Wendy comes with you, _she_ will be the first one to die. It will hurt Peter terribly if I kill one of her friends and she and I will count ourselves enemies again, but I'll make sure she understands that I _had_ given you fair warning."

Nibs stared up at him, his eyes wide with fear. Hook knew he definitely had the boy's full attention, and he sneered down at the frightened child. "She'll hate you too, then. She'll tell you to your face then that she never wants to see you again. It will make her life so much harder if she has to spend it with me as her enemy, but I don't mind. I'll own her just the same regardless of how she feels about me, but I'd like our relationship to be a peaceful one. Now then, I don't care if you stay away to protect Peter or to protect yourself, so long as you never come back." He pressed the barrel harder against the boy's head, forcing Nibs back a step. "Understood?"

Nibs continued to stare at the gun, eyes riveted to the gloved hand that was squeezing the trigger ever so lightly. The steel against his forehead was as cold as ice, sending tendrils of that cold into his heart and stomach. "Yes," he answered weakly, his mind reeling. Hook's smooth transition from sympathetic to threatening had thrown him off balance, and he could barely understand _why_ there was a gun at his head.

"Promise me that you will not return to this ship, and that you will keep the other children from coming here," Hook ordered.

 _No!_ Nibs thought defiantly, but he closed his eyes and pushed the denial away. If Peter didn't want them to come back, then he would honor her wishes. Hook was right – if Nibs asked her, she'd never admit telling him that. He couldn't push the issue of speaking to her, not with a gun to his head. Nibs wasn't afraid of dying, and he had no problem with leading a raid against the ship… but he knew that now was not the time to be brave and stupid. If he died tonight, Wendy or Curly would have to lead the Lost Boys, and neither was really fit for the task. If Slightly was well, he could do the job; but Slightly was still very ill. Nibs was needed, too many people depended on him, and he wasn't going to let them down by throwing his life away. But it still hurt to give in, no matter how much he rationalized it.

"I promise not to come visit Peter, and I promise I won't let the others come." Nibs's only consolation was knowing that Wendy was as sneaky with promises as Hook, and he hoped the girl would figure out a way to get around Nibs's vow if they needed to.

Hook smiled and lowered the pistol, un-cocking it and putting it back in his pocket. "I think you should leave now."

"I want to tell her goodbye," Nibs objected. He lifted off the deck, prepared to fly around to the open window if he had to.

"You'll wake her and get her upset again," Hook chided. "She's already cried herself to sleep once today, are you so cruel that you'll make her do it again?"

Nibs stared at Hook, torn. It wasn't right to leave without saying goodbye when he knew he wasn't coming back. But he didn't want to hurt Peter, she'd been hurt enough already. Finally he gave a ragged sob and turned away. He flew back to the island, weeping the entire way. He needed to talk to Wendy, and perhaps Chief Panther, too. He went straight home, and by the time he alighted beside Wendy's chair, he was shaking with his tears and his anger – anger at himself as well as at Hook.

The little mother looked up from her darning, taken aback at Nibs's distress. "What's wrong?" she whispered, mindful of the sleeping boys.

Nibs sank to his knees and buried his head in her lap. "I did something awful," he cried softly. When the girl began rubbing his back, trying to soothe him, he told her what Hook had said and the awful promise he'd given the man.

Peter came awake with a start, her heart racing as she sat up in the bed, nightmares clinging to her for a few brief moments after she opened her eyes. It had been a horrible dream, one in which she'd been strapped to a table while Captain Hook and King Oberon cut her into to pieces, debating on who received which bits of her. She'd screamed and cried, begging them to stop, but they'd ignored her pleas as they bantered and negotiated. It had hurt so much, and even now that she was awake something deep inside still throbbed painfully.

She blinked slowly, disoriented at first as she took in her strange surroundings, but little by little she remembered where she was and what had happened earlier that day. At least, she supposed it was the same day. Considering that after the last time her godfather had visited she'd been unconscious for a few days, she wouldn't be surprised to discover she'd been asleep for a week.

Gingerly, Peter slid out of the bed and stood unsteadily, looking around the cabin. She wondered where Hook was for a moment before deciding she really didn't care. The nightmare was still rather fresh, and she'd prefer to have just a little while longer before having to look at him. Her recently recovered memories clamored for her attention, but she firmly pushed them to the back of her mind, concentrating on things immediately at hand. It was too much at once for her to handle, and she if she allowed herself to think about them they'd overwhelm her. She was in enough pain as it was without her memories adding more. _Just a little time, and they won't be so bad. I lived with them once, I can do it again… somehow._

Her eyes fixed on the decanter of wine and she smiled with relief. Wine was good for making hurtful things fade away, for making you feel numb both inside and out. She wanted the awful ache inside to go away, she wanted to go to sleep and not think about anything for awhile longer. It was only half-full, but she didn't think she'd have to drink much to get the relief she craved. She'd just filled a glass and lifted it to her lips when the door opened and Hook stepped in.

The captain closed the door, surprised to see Peter was awake and even more surprised to see her on her feet. She stared at him dully, exhaustion and despair plainly writ in her eyes. Her expression wasn't unexpected; in fact he was relieved to see she was no longer weeping hysterically.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" he asked as he sat in a chair, appraising her carefully.

"Broken," Peter murmured, swirling her wine absently. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye, not after what he'd seen of her life. "It hurts, in my heart." She didn't need to See to know the pain was from her Gift. The damage inside her was magical and deep, and there was nothing she could do to heal it. "What are your intentions for me, Captain?" she asked, glancing at him and returning her attention to her wine. She decided she needed to know what he expected out of her now, before she let her guard down by getting drunk.

"My intentions, Kitten?" Hook asked, not understanding what she was getting at.

"Will you expect things from me?" she asked, fascinated by the way the candlelight sparkled on the glass. "You think you own me now, and you're not the first one to think that. Uncle and Liam both thought I belonged to them, and they expected me to do things for them, to give them things I didn't want to give. Are you going to want those things now? Will your crew want them?"

"Gall and brimstone, girl, NO!" Hook shouted when it sank in what Peter meant by 'things'. He saw her flinch, her eyes darting to meet his for an instant before resuming their intense study of the glass of wine. "Kitten," he said in a more gentle tone, "if I wanted those things from you, I would have taken them by now. Have I ever given you a reason to think I wanted that? Have any of my men?"

"No," Peter replied.

"Good. If any of those dogs do _anything_ that you consider inappropriate, tell me and I'll deal with them." Hook leaned towards her, trying to reassure her on this subject. "You're too young for _anyone_ to want those things from you. I do not tolerate rape on my ship, Peter, and I consider sex with someone of your age to be rape, even if you were to agree to it. Any man that thinks to carry on with you will _never_ carry on with anyone else ever again."

"What about when I'm grown up?" Peter pressed. She needed to know she could be safe even here. _Peter Pan, safe on Hook's ship… how could this have ever happened?_ But she needed that security desperately right now. "Once I'm old enough, would I be fair game then?"

"No," Hook repeated. "When you're older, you'll be married and only your husband can expect those things from you. If you obey me until that time, I'll let you choose your husband yourself."

"If I obey and I choose not to marry, what then?"

"Then you can do whatever you wish," Hook swore.

Peter let out a sigh of relief, some of the tension leaving her body. "Thank you." She closed her eyes, hot tears escaping to trickle down her cheeks. "Everything hurts so much," she whispered. Shaking her head, she lifted the glass to her lips again and began downing it as fast as she could. She drank half the glass before she had to stop, her face flushed as she gasped for breath, sudden heat filling her entire body.

"What do you think you're doing, Kitten?" Hook asked, shocked when he saw how fast she was consuming the wine.

"I'm going to get royally pissed, and then I'm going to go back to sleep," Peter said hoarsely, her eyes watery with something other than tears now.

"Pissed?" Hook repeated, taken aback by her crude language.

Peter giggled, smirking at him with sudden amusement that momentarily masked her despair. "Aye, pissed. Drunk. Bladdered. Sloshed. Shit-faced."

"Watch your language, young lady!" Hook barked, more accustomed to hearing words like those from his crew. "Just because you now remember that you were once a filthy guttersnipe, it does not mean you can resume your old filthy habits. You will remember your manners, and you will remember that even while pretending to be male, you had a modicum of tact."

"You can bloody well bite me, Codfish," Peter mumbled, taking another swig of her wine.

"What did you say?" Hook hissed, his face turning scarlet with rage.

Peter smiled sweetly and held up an empty glass. "I said, 'Would you care to join me for a drink, Captain?' I've had a rather bad day and would like to murder it as quickly as possible. First one to pass out wins."

"If you want to pass out, Kitten, I could simply knock you in the head."

"Would you?" Peter sighed. "That would be lovely."

"Pour the damned drink, Pan. Don't expect me to carry your besotted carcass to bed when you're too drunk to stand." Peter merely smiled again and poured the wine.

An hour later, Hook carefully deposited the snoring girl in her bed and tucked her in. Smee puttered about, chiding him for getting the wee lass drunk, lighting her candle and setting out a clean dress for her in the morning. Hook merely rolled his eyes, scorning himself for his softness. He was thankful, however, that Peter had only had time to become mildly giggly before the alcohol had overcome her and sent her to sleep. He didn't think he could have handled her otherwise. Once she was settled in, he returned to his cabin and fell into his bed, blessed sleep taking him the moment his head hit the pillow.


	26. Dominance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Breakfast was a silent affair, to the relief of both the captain and the girl. Cookson had prepared toast, eggs and ham (Neverland's boars were vicious and extremely dangerous to hunt, but their meat was well-worth the effort), and that in addition to the coffee made for a most satisfying repast. Neither had eaten supper the night before and both were rather hungry.

Hook glanced up at the silent girl from time to time, feeling vaguely awkward. She was obviously in pain and he wasn't quite sure what to do to help her. He'd had Smee rouse and dress her an hour ago and she'd barely spoken since she'd come stumbling into his cabin, yawning and rubbing her head as she leaned on the old man for support. Hook had first attributed her bodily aches to a hangover, but now he was fairly certain that wasn't the case. Thrice during breakfast she'd clutched at her heart, giving small grunts of pain. What headache she had she claimed was only a dim ache and not the cause of much discomfort. He resolved to ask her about it once she'd had a little more time to wake up, and eating should go a long way towards reviving her.

It wasn't her physical condition that concerned him the most. The child had been forced to relive some extremely horrifying memories and Hook was worried about her emotional stability. He felt that he should say something to her, something to make her feel better and cheer her. However, Hook had no idea of what he should say. He had a feeling that 'Sorry you were gang-raped, but you lived so it'll be okay,' or 'It's not the end of the world that everyone you ever depended on has betrayed you; you've still got me,' was going to work. He knew he should be able to think of _something_ tactful to say, he'd always been eloquent and manipulative – skills he needed to employ to help her now. But try as he might, nothing suitable came to mind.

He suspected that if he hadn't witnessed her memories he wouldn't be having this difficulty. Every time he looked at her, he kept seeing her lying on the ground as those boys stripped her. Even in his dreams last night he'd remembered what he'd seen of her life. The first time he heard her voice this morning he'd heard echoes of her screams. It made it worse that Pan knew he'd seen her memories, otherwise he could pretend that he hadn't and hide his awkwardness. This was worse than accidentally seeing a lady unclothed; he'd seen very powerful and personal parts of Pan's life, things that, had they happened to him, he'd die before allowing anyone else to see. Being in her presence now made him flustered and upset, and he could only guess how uncomfortable Pan must feel.

Peter ate slowly, allowing herself to enjoy a meal that tasted good and didn't make her nauseous. Voices echoed in her head, images and sounds that tried to catch her attention. She didn't want to think about her memories, not just yet. Given some time she knew they'd fade into the background like normal memories, to be recalled as needed. She'd deal with them then, when she could examine them without the fresh emotions that accompanied them. If she let herself dwell on them now, they'd overwhelm her.

Her Gift pained her. She didn't have the courage to See it, but she could sense it enough to get an idea of what was wrong. Every single magical connection between her and the island was gone. Before, they had merely been blocked by her collar, the restraint leaving her with one regulated magical outlet – just enough to sustain her and Neverland and to allow her godparents access to her mind. Now they all were completely severed, leaving open wounds in her soul. The Gift itself had been damaged by the magical backlash, adding to her stress of being torn away from the island. It _hurt_.

She was supposed to be the conduit between Neverland and its heart, the Gift. Theirs was a three-way symbiotic relationship, each giving and taking from one another for survival, their connections so interwoven that they were nearly one entity. Peter's imagination, coupled with the raw power of the Gift, fed into Neverland and gave it and its denizens life. In return, the island sustained her physically by providing her with food, water, and shelter, and kept her happy with its plethora of adventures. It also transmuted a portion of the raw power into more usable magic and fed it back to her through their connections. Peter and Neverland had given and taken from each other for survival, and their relationship had been so close that no one knew where one started and the other ended. For all intents and purposes, Peter _was_ Neverland… until now.

The Gift itself was a parasitic entity living inside Peter, connected to her both physically and spiritually. It fed off the transmuted power from Neverland and a portion of Peter's physical nutrition to feed itself, in turn generating more of the raw power that Neverland needed. The Gift acted much like a magical heart or lungs, circulating power between Peter and the island, and until now had been just as much a part of her as those organs. It had been a mutually beneficial circle of life, but now it was broken. Peter wasn't sure what would happen to her or to Neverland now, but she had a feeling that neither of them would survive if something wasn't done soon.

Peter frowned at her plate, realizing there wasn't anything left on it to eat. Lifting her lukewarm cup of coffee, she finally looked up at the man across the table. She met Hook's gaze for a moment before the captain glanced away, his face flushing as he glared at his own cup of coffee. _Great, he can't even stand to look at me._

"I'm sorry you had to see all that yesterday," Peter said quietly, feeling ashamed. "You probably think I'm disgusting and weak."

Hook looked at the girl sharply, meeting her gaze again and holding it this time. "Weak? Hardly, Miss Pan," he replied. "It's not easy for a grown man to overcome a pack in a fight, and I'd certainly never expect a young girl to accomplish it. I don't find you disgusting, either. Those filthy sons of whores that raped you are the ones I find disgusting."

"Raped me?" Peter repeated, shuddering slightly at the thought. "They didn't… they tried but I was rescued by… friends in the park." She frowned as the memory became move vivid and the others clamored even louder just beyond it. It took every ounce of concentration to push it away. "I'll tell you about it later if you want, I promise. I just can't… not right now." Hook already knew enough about her so it was rather pointless to keep anything else a secret from him.

Hook nodded and gave her a sympathetic smile, and as he left the table he felt a large weight lift from him. It helped in many ways to know she hadn't been raped. He felt less awkward knowing he hadn't witnessed such a trauma. He _did_ want to know more about her rescue and he resolved to find out if she still retained her virginity – her uncle had gone after her also and Hook needed to know if the man had ever succeeded. Pan would be harder to marry off if she wasn't pure. But such things were better left to worry about later.

"Nibs returned last night," Hook told her as he opened the sack the boy had left behind. "He brought you your things."

Peter frowned at the man as she approached him. "I'll take them to my room then." When Hook reached into the bag, her scowl deepened. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't paw through my things, Captain."

Hook paused a moment, giving her a wry smile. "There is no way in perdition I will simply hand over this sack without examining its contents first. There could be something in here you shouldn't have, like a weapon. I wouldn't be the least surprised if Nibs had stashed a dagger in here." He grabbed the first object his hand touched and pulled it out. For a moment he stared dumbly at the furry, button-eyed, toy rabbit, but then he quirked an eyebrow at Peter and began to chuckle.

"What?" Peter asked, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. She knew Hook was laughing at her, but she wasn't sure why. Annoyed, she reached for the plush rabbit and snatched it from his grasp, clutching it protectively.

"Peter Pan… with a stuffed bunny," Hook laughed, grinning at the girl. "I never would have imagined the boy sleeping with a bunny."

" _The boy_?" Peter said stiffly, her embarrassment mounting. " _I_ am Peter Pan and Carrots is mine." She eyed the man angrily, her desire to do him bodily harm mounting.

"Carrots," Hook repeated, stifling his amusement. He refrained from commenting on how ridiculous she looked, hugging a stuffed animal while glaring at him like a petulant child. But he remembered exactly how much Pan hated being ridiculed, and despite her childish appearance he remembered that she could be dangerous when provoked. "Well then, let's see what other toys Master Nibs has brought you."

Peter growled and reached for the bag, intent on claiming what was rightfully hers. As soon as her hand closed upon the sack, however, Hook's much larger one clamped about her wrist and squeezed. "Give me my things!" she barked.

Hook's eyes narrowed angrily and he pulled the girl closer. "Let me make this clear, Kitten. As you just reminded me, you _are_ Peter Pan, my nemesis, and you live by _my_ forbearance alone. You are my property and everything you posses is mine. You will have nothing that I haven't given you, be it the food in you belly or the clothes on your back, and you will be grateful for every scrap I allow you. This bag of trinkets is mine, and if I decide to I will let you keep them. Defy me and I'll toss the lot overboard and let you watch them sink to the bottom of the bay. Do you understand me, Kitten?"

Peter returned Hook's gaze, matching him glare for glare. She wasn't going to back down on this, she was tired of being ordered about and demeaned in his eyes. She was Peter Pan, Hook's equal, and not some piece of property as he claimed. She had rights… the throbbing ache from her Gift flared again and she gasped at the pain, her free hand reflexively going to her chest. For a moment her vision turned to black, the pain driving everything else from her mind. When it faded she found herself once more staring into Hook's eyes, but she couldn't find the energy to match his glare. She hurt too much to even try.

"Fine," Peter told the man, her voice bitter as she released the bag and shook off his grip. "It's yours, keep it." She dropped her beloved rabbit and turned on her heel, fleeing Hook's presence but unable to flee her shame. Peter Pan _never_ surrendered… _But Peter Pan was a lie. He never existed, it was all pretend._ Fighting her tears, she ignored the questioning stares of the other men and quickly made her way to her cabin, seeking the safety of solitude.

Hook stared at the retreating girl in shock, startling a little when the door slammed shut behind her. "You gave up that soon?" he murmured, his gaze dropping to the stuffed animal on the floor. He picked up the rabbit, absently brushing away some dust as he considered its mistress. He shouldn't have pushed her so soon, but by the same token he couldn't continue to coddle her indefinitely. Now that she was irrevocably his, it was time for her to begin to learn the reality of her new existence. He'd expected her to defy him, but he hadn't expected her resistance to crumble so soon.

"Something's wrong," he mused, and immediately chided himself for being a fool. Of _course_ something was wrong with her. After yesterday's events, the poor child was probably still reeling with shock. Hook returned to the sack and began going through its contents, deciding to inspect Nibs's offering while Pan calmed down. He'd take her things to her and speak with her in a little while, when it was less likely she'd be crying. He _hated_ seeing her cry.

Peter slammed the door to her cabin and briefly considered barring it. She didn't doubt that sooner or later Hook would come down here to gloat some more – 'checking on her' he'd probably call it – and she had no desire to see him again anytime soon. But if he found her door locked (as he had before), he'd break it down. She had even less desire to see him again when he was angry. Shaking her head, she left it unlatched. Briefly she surveyed the room, looking for something to occupy her attention while she tried to regain a semblance of self-control.

She dismissed her bed immediately – she wasn't sleepy and while throwing herself upon it and weeping was appealing, it was also a useless and weak gesture. Her gaze fell upon the book that sat on her little table and she rolled her eyes in disgust. She wasn't sure _what_ had possessed her to believe she could teach herself to read. It was a lot more difficult than she'd imagined, but she wasn't quite prepared to ask someone for help… she'd _eat_ the damned book before she asked Hook to teach her. However, the prospect of asking Starkey for help didn't seem so terrible. The only other thing she could do in here was draw, and she sneered at the charcoal sketches she'd attempted on the parchment Hook had given her. They were hideous.

"I hate this room," she growled as she seated herself at the vanity, absently wiping away a few frustrated tears. "I hate this ship and I hate Hook!" It suddenly occurred to her that this room would be hers from now on, possibly for years to come. This small room, for all she hated it, would be her only bastion of privacy on this ship. The _Jolly Roger_ would be her home and Hook her guardian – though to her the ship seemed more akin to a prison with its captain as her warden. For a brief moment she imagined her real home, nostalgic for its familiar comforts. She thought of her bed and how snug it was when she shared it with the boys. She thought of her fireplace, of sitting beside it with the others while Wendy told stories. She thought of Tink's house – _Tink!_ Peter closed her eyes in pain, praying that her sacrifice had at least saved her fairy friend's life.

The harsh differences between this place and her home became starkly clear to her, deepening her homesickness into a despairing loss. She needed the warm, earthy security of her home. She'd been safe there; the home was hidden from most everyone on the island and the entrances were too small and cunning for any adult that may have accidentally found them. She'd weathered forest fires and hurricanes there. On a few occasions she and the boys had quietly played below while pirate voices drifted down the entrance tunnel, waiting for Hook and his men to leave the area and confident that their home would remain undiscovered. This ship was cramped where her home was snug, smelling of salt and pitch where her home was earth and unwashed children. It was exposed and at the mercy of storms where her home was hidden and safe.

She stared into the vanity's mirror, watching the stranger she saw reflected here. She'd changed so much… she'd lost so much, and that loss was plain to see in the other's eyes. "I just want to go home," she whispered, the tears coming harder now as she gave up trying to fight them. She crossed her arms upon the vanity and buried her face in them, sobbing.

"Please, let me go home! I'll do anything! I'm sorry, please…" her words began to ramble as she pleaded for mercy, knowing in her heart she no longer deserved it but wishing all the same.

Thus did Gloriana find Peter when she appeared in the tiny room, and her weary heart ached anew for the girl. She glanced at the small Healer fairy that had accompanied her and gestured for the pixie to back away. Once the healer was settled on the table, Gloriana floated a chair to Peter's side and carefully sat down, trying not to startle the distraught girl.

"Calm down, Peter," the queen murmured, laying one hand upon the girl's arm while gently rubbing Peter's back with the other. "Somehow we'll get you home. Calm down, child, everything will be alright." She continued to soothe the girl and by degrees Peter's sobs began to subside.

Peter kept her head down and her eyes closed, letting the soft words and caresses calm her. When she was certain she was once more in control of herself, she raised her head. Unwilling to face her godmother directly, she stared at the fairy queen's reflection in the mirror. It was obvious that the woman was tired and worried, but Peter knew better than think Gloriana was worried about _her._ She only wondered why the woman was pretending to care, but she thought she knew the answer to that question. They needed her to willingly give up her Gift, and as far as she was concerned, they could have the damned thing.

"I'm sorry, Majesty," Peter apologized softly.

Gloriana raised an elegant eyebrow at that, a faint smile curving her lips. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Peter. _I'm_ the one who is sorry…"

"Sorry for fostering me," Peter interrupted, looking down. She picked up a hairpin and began nervously fiddling with it.

"No," Gloriana corrected. "You've been a wonderful Pan, strong and brave, filled with beautiful dreams. I'm sorry that I didn't intervene when we found out you were female, that I didn't stop Oberon before he hurt you. I let him handle things because he is my king, and I ignored my own better judgment. I'm sorry for what he's done to you in his anger and pride."

"Is he okay?" Peter asked, remembering yesterday's events with painful clarity. "He protected me… I felt the magic collapsing and I felt him around me, holding it back. I couldn't escape the memories to help him."

Gloriana nodded her head, a small frown creasing her brow. "He's alive, just sleeping deeply. We don't know when he'll awaken or if…" she paused, deciding that burdening this girl with more guilt and worry would be a grave mistake. Peter had enough worries of her own as it was, without telling her that Oberon was comatose. "He just needs to rest, Peter. Until he's better, I rule in his place. I am the Law for now."

Peter nodded, smiling in guilty relief. She wasn't as afraid of her Godmother, and Gloriana was much more understanding than Oberon, even when she was angry. "Why are you here? You found out what you wanted to know, so why come back? You've got more important things to take care of, like Oberon and Slightly." Peter chuckled, her fists clenching tightly in her lap. "Slightly…now that you've seen how horrible I am, you've come to take the Gift, to give to him."

"Peter," Gloriana said softly, but Peter refused to be interrupted.

"I won't fight this time, I'll give it up so it won't hurt me like last time," she smiled weakly at the mirror, staring steadfastly at the reflection of the candle on the wall behind her. She couldn't meet the Queen's eyes, and couldn't bring herself to even look at her own reflection. "Slightly will make a good Pan and a good godson. I'll be happy to pass my Gift on to him. I don't deserve it anymore. I just hope I haven't tainted it, being what I am and all. It hurts me anyway, so I can't wait to give it up. Just do me a favor, please? If losing the Gift _does_ kill me again, will you just let me go? There are people waiting for me, and I'd rather be with them than grow up on this ship."

"Peter, look at me," Gloriana commanded sharply, grasping the girl's chin and forcing her to turn towards her godmother. "You're upset and you're rambling. Take a deep breath and calm down." She took a breath herself, as much to calm herself as to get the girl to mimic her. She needed to allay Peter's fears before the child got herself worked up again – depression, anxiety and grief would only make healing more difficult. When Peter took several slow breaths, Gloriana began to reassure her as best as she could.

"First, I am here to see if you are injured and to try to help you if I can. I've brought a Healer to sense you. Will you let her work while we talk?" When Peter nodded, Gloriana gestured to the pixie to sit on Peter's shoulder. "This is Healer Hyacinth."

Peter glanced at the pixie and let her alight upon her shoulder. The diminutive creature reminded her of her friend. "Where is Tink? Is she okay?"

"She's alive and as well as can be," Hyacinth replied, getting comfortable. Sensing out Peter's magical injures, if they existed, would require much concentration. "She is waiting to be rebonded to you, as soon as it is safe to do so."

Gloriana nodded, running her fingers lightly through Peter's hair. "Which brings me to the other reason I've come here. I cannot rescind Oberon's promise to Hook, believe me when I say that I would in a heartbeat if it were possible. But I can end the exile against you." She smiled at the child, noting how Peter's eyes widened ever so slightly, a faint stirring of hope welling within them. "Yes, you lied to us. Yes, you coerced Tinkerbell into helping you maintain your deceit. But I and the Law can find clemency for you, given the terrible experiences you endured prior to coming to Neverland. You had no reason to trust us when you came here, and we gave you no reason to believe we would continue to protect you if you ever told us the truth. Every caretaker you had ever had betrayed you, and I can understand how you could believe that we would be no different. We proved you right, after all. Oberon and I _did_ betray you.

"Because of this, I am ending your exile from Neverland. You may wander the island as freely as you did before, and no place is barred from you. You may remain for as long as you are Pan."

"I can go home?" Peter whispered in shock, afraid to let herself feel the joy that was threatening to bubble up inside her and make her smile. Too many disappointments in her life kept her from believing her Godmother was telling the whole truth. There had to be a catch, some price that had to be paid. "How much longer will I be Pan? Slightly passed the tests, didn't he? He's to be Pan next."

"Slightly failed the tests, and nearly died in the process," Gloriana replied. "He is recovered now, and he was returned home last night only a little worse for the wear. There is no Pan set to take your place, Peter, and I see no reason why you cannot be rebonded to the island as soon as possible. We will find a new Pan in our own time."

"But," Peter stammered, confusion and hope scattering her thoughts into a million directions. She had so many questions, and she feared that this was nothing more than a dream. "But I'm a girl! You said girls couldn't be Pan!"

"Girls aren't supposed to be Pans, true," Gloriana replied, nodding. "But the Law also says that we _must_ have a Pan. Since we have no one else, we will keep our girl-Pan. We will search for a new Pan, do not doubt that, but don't be surprised if it takes us a long while to find someone suitable. I wouldn't be surprised if we don't manage to find one until you're good and ready to pass on the Gift of your own free will."

"I can go home," Peter repeated, a genuine, happy smile finally playing upon her lips. "I can go home, I can fly again and play with my friends. I don't have to stay here with Hook!" She stood suddenly, grabbing her godmother's hand excitedly. "I want to go now, Godmother. Sprinkle me with dust so I can fly home!"

Gloriana stood, biting her lip worriedly. "I can't dust you, Peter. According to fairy Law, you belong to Captain Hook. No fairy can dust you unless he says that we can, just as we cannot take you away from him. I need to speak with him about having you rebonded to Neverland – we can't do it without his permission."

"I don't need his permission," Peter growled in annoyance. "I can bond myself, I remember the ceremony."

"But you can't do it here, on this ship," Gloriana insisted. "We have to get you ashore, which means we need to be civil to Hook and make him see reason. If he truly has your best interests at heart, he will allow you to return to Neverland."

"I doubt Hook cares about _my_ interests," Peter muttered, her lips pursed in thought. Hook considered her to be his property, and it would be a cold day someplace really hot before he would ever willingly let her go free. _But he sometimes seems to care about me, and other times he's back to his old cruel self. Maybe he really would let me go, if I asked him the right way._

A sharp rap on the door interrupted the girl's musings, and she frowned in mild annoyance. She just knew it was Hook, only he knocked on her door like he was about to break it down. Mullins's saying "speak of the devil and he'll appear" was extremely apt when applied to Hook. She glanced quickly at her godmother before calling, "Come in, Captain."

Hook opened the door and stepped into the tiny room, awkwardly cradling the bag to his chest with his right arm. He _really_ missed his hook – nearly as much as he once missed his hand – and he was going to light a fire under Jukes's ass to finish the repairs to the hook as soon as he finished speaking to Pan. "I've completed my inspection of these trinkets, Kitten, and…" he stepped past the door and saw the fairy queen standing beside Pan. His jaws clenched angrily, cutting off his words abruptly. He narrowed his eyes at the woman in displeasure and slammed the door, tossing Peter's sack onto the table.

"What do you think you are doing here?" he snarled, crossing his arms. He missed his hook even more now. He knew he didn't need it to appear menacing (he certainly didn't need it to kill), but it really was efficient in striking terror into hearts and dissuading arguments.

"I came to see my goddaughter, Captain," Gloriana replied stiffly, vexed by his abruptly rude question. She was not intimidated by his obvious attempt to loom over her. "I told you that I would…"

"I didn't expect you to show your face here again so soon," the captain snapped. "I am tired of you and your idiot of a husband boarding _my_ ship without permission! Leave. Now. And I don't want to find you sneaking about my ship again, else I'll have you thrown overboard like any other stowaway."

Peter's eyes widened in stunned surprise, but Gloriana drew herself up stiffly, livid. "I am the Fairy Queen, Keeper of the Law! I will _not_ be commanded by a mere mortal, a filthy _pirate_ no less! I come and go as I please!"

"This is _my_ ship and _I_ am the law here!" Hook bellowed. "You are a pixie queen, not _my_ queen – you aren't even the queen of this infernal island!"

" _I_ rule Neverland, Captain," Peter interjected. It was true, as keeper of the Gift, Neverland was hers.

"And I rule _you,_ Pan," Hook hissed, fixing his glare on the girl. "What is yours is mine, and that includes Neverland itself." He returned his attention to Gloriana, letting his lips curl into a sneer. "Therefore, I forbid you and your kind to converse with Pan without my permission. You no longer rule here, _majesty_ , I do."

"No one rules Neverland at the moment, so you may as well quit bickering about it," a tiny voice shouted angrily, catching the other three by surprise. "The Pan's ties are broken and Neverland is without Law for now." Hook growled when he saw the pixie on Peter's shoulder and he raised his hand to knock it off, but the girl raised her arms to protect the healer, shaking her head at Hook. The pixie ignored the threatening gesture, her eyes closed as she continued to sense out Peter's condition.

"The wounds are many and deep, Majesty," Hyacinth informed them. "The Pan is completely severed and the Gift is grievously damaged. They are dying, both island and girl. They must be rebonded."

"What is she going on about?" Hook snapped, hiding his uncertainty and concern. He didn't like this talk of his charge dying, not when he'd finally been given control of her.

"When the magic exploded yesterday," Peter answered quietly, slowly sitting on the foot of her bed, "it hurt me. It still hurts terribly. Healer Hyacinth is here to see how bad it is."

"Can you do anything to repair the damage?" Gloriana asked worriedly.

"I can't repair this, only a rebonding will save them," the Healer responded. "Unable to get sustenance from Neverland, the Gift is feeding off of the Pan, draining her of all her magic. When that is gone it will feed on her spiritual energy until it has bled her dry. At that point, the Pan will die and the Gift will not survive her long – it needs a human host. Neverland has enough reserves to carry it for some time without its connection to the Pan, but it will fade when it senses her death. The island cannot exist in despair, and that is what it will know when all hope of being rebonded has gone."

"How long before it kills her?" Hook asked, masking his worry for her. Showing concern would weaken his stance with her, and he could not afford to show weakness in front of the fairy queen. He was not giving the pixie any weapon to use against him to win back Pan. He didn't know how the magic had managed to mortally wound Pan, nor did he care. All he wanted to know was what needed to be done to save her, and how long he had to do it.

The pixie shrugged. "No way to tell, not for sure. A week perhaps, more likely two. Could be as much as a month, but certainly no more than that. It'll be apparent when the time draws near, she'll visibly weaken and be in a lot of pain a day or so before she dies. In the meantime, the Pan must be rebonded or else the Gift passed on to a new Pan. Either solution will save all."

"That is why you must let me take Peter ashore, Captain Hook," Gloriana said, a hint of pleading in her voice. She'd managed to calm herself and hoped that she hadn't angered the man too much. They needed his goodwill to save Peter. "She can only be rebonded while physically in contact with the island. Once she is rejoined with Neverland…"

"No," Hook said simply, cutting the queen off. He stared at Peter, taking silent stock of her. She had a measure of her hope back in her eyes, evidenced whenever she gazed at Gloriana, and he didn't like it. Her only hopes should be in him, her only happiness and joy in what _he_ could provide for her. His gaze didn't flinch when he saw Peter's start of surprise at his denial, nor did it waver when he saw her hope flicker. She was going to be hurt by his decision, but she'd get over it eventually. When they left this island, she'd have her whole life to come around to her Captain's way of seeing things.

"No?" Gloriana repeated, sure she'd heard wrong. "But Captain Hook, don't you understand? She'll _die_ if she isn't rebonded!"

Peter frowned up at Hook, thinking she understood why he wouldn't want her to go. "It won't change Oberon's oath," she told him, barely masking her bitterness at the reminder of how casually her godfather had made such a terrible promise. "Even bonded, you'll still own me according to fairy law." She didn't mention to him that the fairies weren't the only ones with laws. Dwarves, trolls, Indians, mermaids… every magical race it seemed had their own laws, and few would recognize Hook's claim upon her. Neverland had its own law for that matter, and once rebonded Peter intended to see if it would recognize Hook's claim. King Oberon had only exercised control of Neverland by proxy, because he had Fostered the Pans. He was the guardian of the Gift, not its owner.

"By fairy law, you'll be steward of Neverland and could rule through me," Peter added. It was a dangerous bit of information, information that she knew Hook would likely take full advantage of, but she was prepared to risk anything to return to her real home and regain her contact with Neverland. But then, the words "by fairy law" gave her some wiggle room later… hopefully.

Hook affected a bored expression, still watching Peter. "My answer is still 'no'. I care nothing for ruling this wretched island and I long to quit it as soon as possible. The Healer says that if the Gift is passed on, Pan will survive. Is this true?"

"Yes," the pixie answered carefully. "The Gift is draining her strength. If it was removed, correctly this time, then Peter would recover."

Hook nodded and spoke to Gloriana again, firm in his decision now. "Remove this Gift from Pan, but _try_ not to kill the girl again. Find some hapless whelp to infect it with – I care not who. With Pan freed from it, there will be no reason for us to remain here."

"The Pan cannot be released without a new one to take it up immediately," Gloriana answered tightly. "If the Gift is damaged then it must have a new host, else it will die. Despite your claim to Peter, I cannot and will not endanger Neverland further by doing as you wish." She took a breath, repressing her anger. "Let her rebond, and once we find a new Pan we will do as you ask."

"I think not," Hook snapped. "I'm not giving you the luxury of time. You have a week – a month at the most – to find a new Pan and to take Peter's Gift. I will see her dead of this before I let her reattach herself to that island. That part of her life is over, and if it means her very life is over too, then so be it."

"You cold-hearted MONSTER!" Gloriana hissed in disbelief, her words echoed by the healer fairy. Only Peter seemed unsurprised, and Hook noted that the hope he'd seen in her was now gone. He'd make it up to her later, he swore silently. "I thought you cared for her!" the queen continued, unable to comprehend how someone could be callous of a child's life.

"You thought incorrectly, as you have from the very moment I first laid eyes on you," Hook replied disdainfully. "This entire predicament is your fault, yours and your husband's. Do not expect _me_ to be concerned over your mistakes. I've long wanted Pan dead and only recently have I entertained the notion of keeping her alive for my own amusement. If she lives, it will be under _my_ conditions. If she dies, so be it. I assure you, I won't weep for her when she's lying cold and lifeless at my feet."

Gloriana stared, her mouth hanging open in a most undignified manner. Her thoughts spun wildly as she struggled to find something to say. There had to be a way to convince him! How could he be so cold? She'd _seen_ his concern for Peter, it couldn't have been an act… could it?

Hook took a step forward, his manner malevolent. "Get off my ship and do not return without my permission, else I will bring Pan's slow death to a rather abrupt and merciful conclusion. She isn't wearing her collar anymore, so there's nothing to stop me from killing her. That healer may come once a day to evaluate Pan's health, but no one else is to come and she must consult with me when she arrives and before she leaves. You and the rest of your kind are not welcome here. Go, now, and do not come back."

Gloriana looked to Peter, seeing the tears that glimmered in the girl's eyes. "I'm sorry, Peter," she whispered, helpless to do anything to save the girl.

"Find a new Pan," Peter murmured to her, struggling against her disappointment and despair. She should have known better than to let herself hope. Hope and happiness were things of her old life, her life as a boy. As Hook had said: that part of her life was over now. "For Neverland's sake, find a boy to be Pan and let me go." She saw Gloriana hesitate so she brushed the Healer off her shoulder and turned away. "Hurry up and go, you're wasting my time. What if I only have a week? Go and don't come back until you've got a solution to my problem."

Gloriana nodded. "I love you, Peter. I'm sorry." She disappeared, and the Healer fairy disappeared with her.

Peter glared at Hook when she was gone, fighting her tears. Anger and sadness swirled in her heart, leaving aching pain in its wake. "Get out, Captain," she ordered softly, not trusting her voice enough to try to speak louder. She feared she'd start screaming.

Hook nodded and left, closing the door behind him. There really wasn't anything for him to say.


	27. Complacency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Billy Jukes groaned and rubbed his eyes, trying to soothe away the ache. He'd been at this task all day and the night before, and he was tired. He didn't dare stop until he was finished, though. The captain had told him in no uncertain terms that the weapon was to be finished _today_ , or else Billy would suffer most unpleasant consequences. _Almost done, though; then I'll get me some food and a nap._

He'd had to re-forge the hook after all, whatever had happened to the old one had left the metal too brittle to be reused. Recreating his former masterpiece was tedious work for the gunner, but Billy was a dedicated perfectionist and more than up to the task. The forging itself had been the fun part. Jukes never felt more at peace than when he was putting his hammer to hot iron. The heat, the rhythm, the sound of ringing steel, all served to focus him. There was something immensely gratifying about crafting, of seeing the fruits of his labor take the shape he wished. He loved gunnery and Long Tom, reveled in the canon's destructive power, but his truest passion was in creation. Perhaps that was why he excelled in making weaponry: he could use tools of creation to make tools of destruction. But the fun part was over, the forging was done and the coals in the furnace were now merely warm. Now was time for the tedious work – crafting the mechanism that allowed Hook to split his claw into twin hooks.

"Mr. Jukes?" a soft voice called, and Billy looked up to see Peter standing in the doorway to his workroom. She looked a lot better than she had yesterday (she'd been unconscious when he'd last seen her, an occurrence that was becoming too common for comfort), but there was a melancholy to her expression that went straight to Billy's heart. She held a tray with a small pitcher and some food. "Hungry?" she queried, lifting the tray a little higher. Billy's stomach growled and he fought down a sudden urge to kiss the girl.

"Come in, Miss Pan," Billy called, smiling as he pushed his project to the side. He well remembered the last time Peter had visited him in his shop, and he had no intentions of repeating that disaster. Besides, he really was glad to see her, but he wasn't sure if it was because he wanted her company or because he was starving.

Peter set the tray down in front of Jukes, returning his warm smile despite herself. It felt good to smile; it made the ache in her heart diminish a little. "I heard Mr. Mullins grousing that you'd missed breakfast and lunch, so I thought I'd see if you were hungry. My day can't get much worse, so if you yelled at me it wouldn't break my heart or anything." Her smile faded a little. Ever since her godmother had left this morning, she'd kept herself closeted in her room. Hunger had finally driven her out an hour after lunch, but she'd decided to keep below to further avoid running into Hook. Boredom had led her to seek out Billy Jukes, but she didn't want to antagonize him by being an annoyance while he was trying to work. "Eat up," she said, turning to leave. _Maybe Cookson would like someone to talk to…_

"Wait," Billy called, and when Peter paused and turned back to him he smiled. "If you're not busy ya could stay. I'd like the company."

"Thought you didn't like people in your workroom," Peter countered, but a hint of a smile took the bite out of her comment. Billy pulled another stool to his small table and Peter perched upon it, grimacing as she adjusted her skirts. She didn't think she'd ever learn how to sit properly in a dress and still be comfortable.

"That's only if I'm having to concentrate," Billy answered, tucking into his lunch. "Distractions can be dangerous, and sometimes I forget what I was doin' if I'm interrupted. I've lost lots of projects because someone broke my concentration, and I lost the inspiration I'd been working with."

"Like when I ruined your sword," Peter said softly, propping her chin on her hand as she leaned against the tabletop. She looked away from Billy when she saw him frown, turning her attention to the new hook on the table. Now that she wasn't angry at him over that incident, she felt a little guilty for ruining his work. She should have known better than to interrupt someone using magic, aborted spells had a tendency to go wild.

"I don't know what went wrong with that sword," Billy mused as he chewed on a piece of bread. "It looked alright, but it _felt_ broken. I wish I understood it." He took a bite of his stew, his eyes loosing focus as he pondered the mystery.

Peter stared at the hook in fascination. She reached out to touch the curved steel, but hesitated a hair's breadth from contact. Remembering somewhat of the manners Wendy and Hook had tried to teach her, she looked to Billy and asked, "May I?" When the boy smiled and nodded, mouth stuffed full, she closed her fingers about the cold metal and pulled it closer. It had been strange to see Hook without his namesake, his handicap becoming even more apparent without it. Indeed, at times it was easy to forget the man hadn't been born with the cruel steel at the end of his arm – Peter had taken his hand in their very first encounter, so she had precious few memories of him with both his hands. Seeing now the hook without its master was even stranger… like seeing the man's bloody hand lying on the deck after she'd severed it… hearing his screams of pain, the panic of the crew… _blood, so much blood_ … hate, her hate mingled with his to produce a vendetta that could only end when one destroyed the other… _'When I'm done with you,' Hook boasted, 'Peter Pan will be gone forever…'_

"Peter?" Billy called again, startling the girl from her thoughts. She let go of the hook quickly and stared at him in wonder. "What?" he asked, uncomfortable at the intensity of her gaze.

"You have no idea, you honestly don't," she murmured, returning her attention to the hook. She touched it lightly, feeling the anger and malice resonating within it, the destruction the weapon was capable of. "What were you thinking when you forged this?" For a moment she allowed herself to look at it with Sight and perceived the malevolent glow of power in its core.

"I dunno," Billy mused, wondering at the question. "I think I was angry that those pixies had come back and hurt you again. I was glad to know they'd been hurt, too. After what they did to me, I can't feel anything but angry at them… I hate them. And putting that collar on you! They…" he paused, realizing that he was getting himself riled up unnecessarily. He took a deep breath and returned to his food, grinning sheepishly. "That was pretty much it… I was pissed and I wanted to hurt them. I figure Cap'n'll give 'em what for with his new hook next time they show their faces here. Umm, why did you want to know?"

Peter tapped her chin thoughtfully, looking around the room until her gaze fell upon the sword Billy had made. Glancing at it with Sight (only a glance… she dreaded to see the damage done to herself), she confirmed that it glowed with power, too. She scurried to the wall where it hung and lifted it up, smiling at the faint, warm hum that filled her when she wielded it.

"What were you thinking when you made _this_?" she asked, experimentally putting the blade through a few motions. She was more accustomed to her dagger (Liam had taught her all about fighting with knives but swords were for the rich folk), but somehow this sword felt natural to her, like it belonged in her hand. Joy and strength imbued her and she felt almost as if she could fly, and when she sliced air with the blade, her laughter was echoed by the steel's hum. It promised protection for its wielder and all she cared for.

"Put that back!" Billy yelled, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He remembered _exactly_ who he'd been thinking of when he forged that sword. There was no way in hell he'd tell Peter Pan he'd daydreamed of her… of flying with her and kissing her, of things he'd only heard of and yet set his skin on fire. "Cap'n says you're not to be armed, Miss Pan. Please put it back! He'll hang me if he sees you with it!"

"Don't be silly, I'll protect you from Codfish," Peter giggled, feeling happier that she had in many days. But she gave the sword one last swipe and hung it back in its place, unwilling to actually get the gunner in any trouble with Hook. "It's a lovely sword, Mr. Jukes. Perhaps one day you'll make one for me."

Billy grunted in non-commitment as he set about finishing his meal. Peter stared at him thoughtfully, toying with a sudden idea. Billy could have been a Pan if he had been a little younger. But was he really too old, or were her godparents merely dismissive of him because of his age? He'd Seen fine once she'd helped him, though he'd been too upset to really appreciate the world he was getting a look at. He could touch magic even without Sight, something that Peter herself had a hard time doing, and he manipulated it into his creations with a skill not even a dwarven spell-smith could match. Perhaps he was still Pan-worthy, despite his age.

Peter didn't relish the idea of passing her Gift on to a pirate, but if things became desperate then she might not have a choice. If Gloriana couldn't find a new host, Peter would die and take Neverland with her. She didn't want to die, but if it was going to happen, she had to ensure her loved ones would still have their home. So if Billy could take the Gift…

"So, why are you still here?" Jukes asked, pushing his empty bowl away with a satisfied sigh.

"Oh," Peter said, blinking in surprise. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you wanted me to leave." Feeling rebuffed and a little hurt, she turned to go.

"No, that's not what I meant," Billy said hastily, rushing to stop the girl. He grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to halt, and gently turned her around. "I was only wondering why you haven't escaped the ship yet. You're not chained."

"I'm exiled," Peter began, realizing even as she spoke that it wasn't true. Gloriana had told her that her exile was ended and that she was welcome to return to the island. "The collar…" she paused again, her hand touching her neck and finding only skin. The collar was gone… how had she not noticed before? She'd been upset and distracted ever since she'd awakened this morning, but she truly was slipping if she'd been too upset to notice something as vital as her missing collar.

"I pitched that disgusting piece of black magic overboard," Billy growled, his lips curving up in disdain. Though it had been broken, it had still made Billy feel nauseous to be close to it. "I thought the collar was what kept ya off the island, and I figured with it gone then you'd be free. But if they've got another way to keep ya away, then I guess the Cap'n doesn't need to put you back in irons or lock you in your cabin."

"No, he certainly doesn't need to do that," Peter murmured, her mind turning over the implications of this discovery. The collar was gone and she was free to move about the ship… Neverland would welcome her back. _I could rebond!_ The trick would be slipping off the ship unnoticed. It wouldn't do to escape at long last, only to be recaptured as soon as she reached shore. She couldn't fly, but she could swim and there were boats she could row to land. She realized she was grinning and quickly composed herself. Billy Jukes was a pirate, loyal to Hook and his crew, and therefore not to be trusted. Peter had no doubts the young pirate would clap her in irons himself if he thought she might escape, and then all her hopes would die just as quickly as they'd been born.

"I just remembered something I have to do," Peter explained, resisting the urge to hug the boy. "Thanks for letting me visit, Mr. Jukes. Perhaps we'll do this again sometime. I've got to go." She gave him a big smile and left quickly, deciding to take a stroll on deck and plan. Her heart sang at the thrill of her soon-to-be daring escape, and she imagined her friends' wondering faces when she returned home triumphant. They'd have a huge party and she'd regale them with the story of her harrowing escape.

Billy shook his head when Peter fairly danced out of his workroom. He wondered at her sudden happiness, considering how depressed she'd seemed when she came to visit him. He thought about what he'd said and her reactions, and his eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. _Could_ she escape? What that why she was so happy? Should he say something to the captain? He bit his lip in consternation, carefully weighing his options. He liked Peter and would love to see her happy once more, and nothing would make her happier than going home. But the idea of allowing her to escape just didn't sit well with him. He wanted to leave Neverland just as much as the rest of the men on this ship, and there was no way in hell Hook would let them leave with Pan running free on the island. And, Billy reluctantly admitted to himself, he liked having Peter on the ship, and the idea of her leaving him left a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Billy halfheartedly resumed working on the claw. Hook had demanded it be done by mid-afternoon, and Billy would have hell to pay if it wasn't ready when the man came to claim it. He thought while he worked, pondering the possibility of Pan's escape and what he should do about it. Torn between Peter's happiness and his own, he weighed his options and found them all painfully lacking.

* * *

Patience was _not_ Peter's strong point and she was only beginning to understand the virtues of tact and prudence. It had been several hours since her talk with Billy Jukes, and nearly every moment since then she had spent contemplating her escape. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the railing, forcing her feet to remain on the deck as she stared across the waves at the shoreline. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to leap, to plunge into the water and swim. The island was calling for her, needing her desperately, and she felt the magic within her returning its call, pleading to be reunited and whole once more. Her instinctual responses, her ability to change tactics in the course of a battle, adapting without thought to any contingency, had saved her life countless times. She was used to obeying her impulses and ignoring them at this moment was setting her teeth on edge.

She was a superb swimmer, only the mermaids surpassed her in the water, and she knew that she could out-swim Hook. _Just jump!_ Her instincts screamed, urged on by her need. _You'll be ashore before Hook even knows you're gone. Go! Quick, before he realizes you can escape!_ She leaned against the railing, unconsciously raising one foot as she contemplated how wonderful it would be to be running free on solid ground once more.

 _Not now!_ Her rational mind cautioned, stilling her. _There's_ _too many men on deck. You can't swim as fast in this dress. If you take it off now, they'll know something is up. If you jump and take it off in the water, they'll catch you before you've swum two feet. And you'll be too slow swimming in the dress, they'll catch up to you._ She recalled her previous escape attempt and the urge to leap grew stronger. She'd swum in a dress then, she'd even forced herself to go slow so she could keep pace with Wendy, and she'd _still_ beaten the pirates ashore. But she'd caught them by surprise then, only Smee had been on deck and Hook had been too distracted by his fight with Mullins to realize what she'd done. Instead of pursuing her, Smee had rung the bell to alert the men, giving her and Wendy the head-start they'd needed. Peter knew that if she leapt into the water now, Mason or Mullins would be leaping in after her a heartbeat later. Prudence dictated that she should wait until a better opportunity presented itself. Tonight would be better, when everyone but the night watch would be asleep. If she could steal the dingy…

"Enjoying the view, my dear?" Peter startled from her thoughts when she heard Hook's voice, frowning irritably as she realized he was standing right behind her. _If he got this close without me noticing, I'm in NO shape to be escaping right now._

"I'm not your 'dear'," she retorted, not deigning to turn to look at the man. She shook her head, trying to clear her animosity. She hadn't spoken to him since his confrontation with Gloriana this morning, and she still felt angry and strangely betrayed, but she didn't want to provoke him. It would be all too easy for him to have her confined again and destroy any chance she had of escaping. "What do you want, Captain?" she asked, her voice still sharp.

"I wish to speak with you, privately," Hook replied, placing his hand on her shoulder and turning her about to face him. Peter didn't resist, but she couldn't hide her expression as she glared up at him. He smiled in the face of her anger and offered her his arm. "May I escort you to my cabin?"

"Why bother asking?" Peter asked bitterly as she took his arm. She noticed immediately that he once more wore a claw on his arm, and she repressed her feelings of unease. Billy had imbued that weapon with a strange, malevolent power, and she had no desire to find out exactly what it could do in a fight. "You own me; you could just order me to your cabin."

Hook's smile faded somewhat, troubled by the resentment he heard in the girl's voice. "Yes, I could, but I prefer to ask you civilly. You've been a good girl and I reward good behavior. Now come along."

Peter gave the shoreline a final, wistful glance, silently promising the island that they'd be reunited soon, and let the captain lead her to his quarters. When the door closed behind them, she crossed her arms and stood in the middle of the cabin, knowing she should at least _try_ not to antagonize Hook and yet too angry to really care. Pointedly ignoring his invitation to sit, she fixed him with a baleful glare and began tapping her foot with angry impatience. It suddenly occurred to her that with the collar gone, she could attack the man with impunity, and that realization helped soothe her somewhat. "Say what you want so I can go, Hook."

The captain appraised the girl, considering his words carefully. He wanted to smooth things over with her, to try and salvage the trusting relationship that had been developing between them. It bothered him more than he'd thought it would to see the old anger and hatred in her eyes when she looked at him. "I owe you an apology, Miss Pan," he announced, taking a few steps towards her. Peter's annoying foot-tapping halted immediately and her jaw dropped in shock. Hook smiled at the reaction.

"I'm sorry you had to hear what I said to Queen Gloriana this morning," he continued. "I really do not wish to see you unhappy and I certainly do not want you dead… not anymore. It was all lies - I _do_ care for your wellbeing." He wasn't sure if he should have admitted to that last bit, it indicated a weakness that Pan or one of her friends could try to exploit.

"You're _still_ lying," Peter retorted. "You're a heartless, manipulative bastard of a pirate. As you reminded me this morning, you've wanted me dead since you first met me, so why should I believe that you've changed now? My predicament works out wonderfully for you, doesn't it? If the fairies don't replace me, I'll waste away and die a painful death. If they _do_ replace me, you'll get to - as you put it - keep me alive for your own amusement." Peter's hands clenched into fists and her glare hardened into stone. "I will die before I become your plaything, James Hook," she swore, meaning it from the depths of her heart.

Hook put his hand into his pocket for a moment, tempted to withdraw the box stowed there. He decided to wait before withdrawing it and presenting it to Pan. The girl was angry with him still, and she had every right to be. He just hoped that she could be swayed by his words to accept his apology. But if mere words weren't enough, his experience with women assured him that the way to her heart would be with this gift… provided that Peter remembered enough of her life as a female to react appropriately.

"I want to leave Neverland, Pan, but you are an anchor that holds me here," Hook explained patiently. "If I allow you to re-bond to this island, I will once again find myself trapped here, and I'm afraid I will have no choice but to kill you to be free – just as I did before we discovered your true gender."

"I've done _nothing_ to keep you here, Hook!" Peter snapped. "It's your own obsession with vengeance that's kept you here all this time, hunting me!"

"Obsession… yes, that's exactly what it is," Hook said calmly, approaching again until he was within arm's reach of her. Peter stood her ground, but a hint of uncertainty now marred her angry glare. "Vengeance is mine – your very _life_ is mine, and I do not surrender what I've claimed as my own. But," he held up his hook to forestall Peter's objections, "I also do not wish to see you destroyed. You're behavior these past weeks has convinced me that keeping you alive could be so much more satisfying than seeing you dead."

"Then let me go," Peter urged. She didn't believe Hook actually cared for her, the man didn't know how to care for a person the way normal people cared for each other. She was a possession to him and he only cared about keeping her like some piece of treasure.

"I'll make you a deal, Pan," Hook offered, despite his misgivings. "Continue your exemplary behavior and prove to me that I can trust you. Accept that you are mine and acknowledge me as your patron, and I shall do all in my power to provide for you and keep you safe. If your godparents have not managed to replace you by the time your life is in serious jeopardy, then I will allow you to re-bond to the island and resume your role as its Pan."

Peter blinked in shock, staring at Hook silently as she repeated his words to herself, trying to comprehend his sudden change of tack. "What?" she whispered after several moments, convinced she'd misunderstood him. "Why? I thought you said…"

"What part of 'I lied' did you fail to comprehend, Kitten?" Hook chided, his tone gentle and amused. Cupping her chin in his hand, he leaned down slightly to hold her gaze better, to ensure she heard and understood him completely. "I am trying to force your godmother's hand. If she believes that I would prefer you dead then let you re-bond, then she will do everything in her power to find your replacement. In the meantime, that healer pixie will come to visit you daily and assess your health. If she tells me that your time is running out, then I will carry you ashore myself and see you re-bonded. They'll have to replace you when you're older, so if I can't have you now then I shall wait until you're grown up. In the meantime, as you said: even bonded, I'll still own you… and by proxy, I'll own Neverland. I despise this island, but I suppose I can endure it for awhile longer. I would prefer to take you away from here sooner than later, but I also prefer to have you later than never."

"You'll let me go?" Peter asked incredulously, her voice breaking with happy relief. Perhaps she wouldn't have to attempt a risky escape after all! Hope filled her, easing the knot of tension that had writhed in her stomach all day. When Hook smiled at her, she found herself grinning in return and she barely repressed the urge to hug him. "You promise you'll let me go?"

"I promise that I will allow you to re-bond if you behave and give me reason to trust you," Hook corrected. He didn't bother explaining to her that he had in no way said _anything_ about letting her go. There was no reason that she couldn't return to the ship once her magic was restored and her life was no longer in jeopardy. The thought of her running wild on the island again and resuming her old, irritating habits and cocky personality was anathema to Hook. He vowed that, bonded or not, the old Peter Pan would stay dead and the trusting girl she had blossomed into would continue to grow in the boy's place. Kitten was his, and he planned to keep her no matter what.

When he saw the happy, hopeful smile bloom across her face he felt warmth and satisfaction fill his heart, knowing that he was the source of her hope and joy. _No, no reason to explain that this ship will forevermore be her home. I need her happy and hopeful for now to keep her in line. Once the crisis has passed and she is safe, I'll explain to her in detail the limits of her new life and my expectations for her._ He knew the girl would be angry at him again when she realized that she still wouldn't be free, that her old home would still be denied to her, but that was something he'd worry about when the time came. She had too many other issues causing her grief right now, too many ghosts from the past. She didn't need to concern herself with her future, too.

"I have a gift for you, Kitten," he said suddenly, pulling the small box from his coat pocket and holding it up for her to see.

"A gift?" Peter repeated, intrigued. She, like any other child, loved getting gifts. She took the box from the captain, eyeing it with a mixture of curiosity and reluctance. "What's it for? Why would you give me a present?"

"Since your godparents have surrendered you to me, I am now officially your guardian and benefactor," Hook explained, feeling vaguely awkward at having to explain himself. He'd wanted to give her something, something meaningful, and he wasn't exactly sure why he'd chosen this particular present. It was terribly personal for him. "Consider this a gift to welcome you to my… family." He frowned, suddenly even more uncomfortable. He certainly didn't want Pan to think of him as a father, and he knew he could never harbor any type of paternal love for the child. There was, literally, too much spilled blood between them.

Peter blinked at Hook uncertainly, not sure what to think about being any sort of relation to Hook. It didn't sound like a very desirable prospect, considering that Hook had told her once that his entire family was dead, a few members of which he'd killed himself. But then she smiled, deciding to take what goodwill he offered her without overanalyzing it. She opened the small box and peered inside, and her breath caught at the green sparkling stones she saw. "Earrings, Captain?" she asked, pulling one of them from the box and holding it up for inspection. The square-cut emerald flashed in the light, and below it dangled a small pearl. It was simple and elegant, and Peter hated it immediately. It was too feminine by far.

"They belonged to my mother," Hook told her, resisting the urge to snatch them away from her. He had his doubts about the sanity of giving such a priceless heirloom to this girl, but it was too late now to change his mind. "I hope that with further tutelage, you will one day bloom into a proper young lady that my dear mother would have approved of. I'm giving them to you as a symbol of my new commitment to you. I'd like you to wear them tonight, along with the gown I gave you, and join me for dinner to celebrate the start of your new life as my ward."

Peter's nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of having to wear that confining dress, and all the other preparations she'd have to endure to make herself "presentable". The dress and petticoats, those god-awful shoes that pinched her toes, styling her hair…. "Captain, I can't wear these. I appreciate the thought and everything, it was very generous of you to give them to me, but my ears aren't pierced."

Hook chuckled. "Trust me, my dear, piercing your ears presents no difficulty at all. You will wear them, and the dress, and you will look lovely. Sit, Kitten, and I'll have Starkey or Mullins come and put the holes in for you. If we do it now, they won't be sore by dinnertime tonight. I'll give you some simple hoops to wear at other times, to keep the holes from closing up." Hook stepped out of the cabin to fetch someone with a proper pair of hands.

"Whatever, Codfish," Peter whispered to herself while Hook was gone from the room. She didn't want the earrings, and she certainly didn't want holes in her ears, but she was willing to put up with them for now if it would keep Hook happy. She felt a lot better knowing that the man would release her instead of letting her die, and her sense of urgency in making her escape had faded into the background. Whether it came to Hook releasing her or escape on her own, neither scenario would be possible if she insulted or angered Hook. He'd confine her or chain her, and she'd never make it home again. So, for now, she'd wear her dress and whatever jewelry he saw fit to bedeck her with, and she'd smile happily at all his witty remarks. Going home was her first priority, and she'd endure what she must to get there.

Even so, when Mullins entered with Hook and smiled at her, Peter felt her skin crawl and her hands begin to shake. When she asked if it would hurt, the man merely grunted and brandished a sewing needle. After all the things she'd endured in her life, she knew she ought not be afraid of a little needle, and yet it took every ounce of willpower Peter possessed to make herself sit there and not fight.

* * *

 _"Peter!" the voices called, filled with longing. She reached out blindly, trying to find them in the void, but her questing arms found only nothingness. "Come back, we need you! Peter, come back!"_

 _"I can't find you!" she cried out in return, flailing about._

 _"Pathetic, Kitten," Hook chided._   
_"Surely you know how to See the Light."_

 _There was a bolt of lightening and suddenly Peter could See the magic surrounding her, superimposed upon the now-visible physical world. She was in a small boat, gripping the oars tightly as she drifted in a too-calm sea. The island lay a few hundred feet away, and figures stood upon the shore, watching her. The Lost Boys, Wendy, Tink, the Indians and fairies, and every other inhabitant… they were all there watching her, waiting. Magic flowed through them, joining them to Neverland. Neverland itself reached for her, tendrils of magic stretching towards the small boat, and Peter could sense the island's desperate need._

 _"Peter," Neverland cried. "My Pan, why have you forsaken me? How could you choose him over me? I need you, my Pan, please!"_

 _"Come back, Peter," the Lost Boys called, their voices echoed by the others on the shore. Hundreds of hands reached towards her in supplication. "We'll die too, if Neverland dies. Don't you love us, Peter?"_

 _"Love," Hook scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. Peter turned to see the Jolly Roger behind her, with Hook and his men on deck watching. "Leave them, Kitten, they don't love you. They're just using you. No one loves you, no one cares. Come back and forget them, and I'll take care of you. I'll pretend to love you, and I'll make you into everything you never wanted to be. It's no more than what you deserve."_

 _The island wailed and Peter gave a cry of her own at the pain wracking them both. She had to go home, she needed Neverland and Neverland needed her. They were running out of time! Frantically, she began rowing, determined to go back to where she belonged. But instead of getting closer, the shoreline began to recede into the distance. Peter redoubled her efforts but soon the island disappeared over the horizon._

 _"NO!" she screamed, feeling lost and abandoned._

 _"You belong here, Kitten, now and forevermore," Hook told her, and Peter found herself standing on the deck. She turned to Hook and saw he held a golden gem-encrusted chain, the other end of which was fastened to a beautiful gold bracelet around her wrist._

 _"You said you'd let me go," Peter moaned, her voice breaking into sobs as her grief overwhelmed her. She pulled at the chain in a futile attempt to get free._

 _"You are a fool, Kitten," Hook laughed, his voice mocking, "to believe you could_ ever _trust_ me _." He continued to laugh at her and the other pirates laughed with him, pointing at her in derision._

 _Horrified, Peter could only scream._

"Lemme go!" Peter gasped, sitting up in her bed as she came awake with a jolt. Her hand crept to her chest at the ache from the Gift, her breath coming in large heaves as she tried to calm herself. _A dream… a bad dream_ , she realized and by degrees she was able to get herself under control. She was in her cabin, safe and sound and alone.

Peter climbed from her bed and stood unsteadily, looking about the room. She shivered in her nightgown, but from a feeling of foreboding rather than cold. She felt like she'd lost something, something terribly important.

 _Pan_ , she thought she heard a voice whisper, a voice filled with pain and need. Another ache surged in her heart as her Gift tried to respond to the call and failed.

"I can't come yet," she murmured in response. "Just wait, he'll let me go before it's too late."

 _Fool_ , she remembered Hook's derisive voice from her dream. _Fool to believe you could_ ever _trust_ me.

"Can I trust you, Hook?" she asked softly, afraid and confused. Her gaze fell upon the earrings lying on her vanity. Her hand went to the small hoop earring in one ear as she recalled tonight's dinner.

It had been surprisingly pleasant, despite the cumbersome dress and formal manners. Even the soreness of her newly-pierced ears had faded to the background, supplanted by the Captain's intriguing stories and light-hearted conversation. She'd feared he'd want to discuss her memories, or to plot the future life he thought he could dictate for her, and so she'd come to the table sullen and on guard. But the most he'd said about events from the day before had been to assure her that if she felt the need to talk to someone about it, he was at her disposal at any time of the day or night. The rest of the evening had been a sharing of adventures that he'd had, a genuine interest in hearing her own stories, and a polite discussion on magic versus science – Peter had resisted the urge to mention how Billy Jukes could meld the two.

"He's been pleasant enough, yes, but can I _trust him_?" Peter mused, looking to her reflection in her mirror. Even as she asked the question, she found her answer.

"No. I thought I could… he's very convincing at times but I've let him lull me too long. If he really cared for me, he'd release me now. I can't trust him to keep his word to give me up when the time comes." If he broke his word, she would die. She would die, Neverland would die with her, and everyone she loved on the island would die too.

She also had to admit that even if she _could_ trust Hook to keep his word, she couldn't agree to his decision to keep her here until it became a matter of life or death. What if Gloriana managed to find a replacement in the meantime? The Queen would only be looking because she thought she had no other choice.

 _What if she finds someone tonight or tomorrow?_ Peter thought with rising panic. A sense of urgency rose in the pit of her stomach, a sudden dread that time might be running out for her sooner than she thought. _Here I am, having_ dinner _with Hook and wearing his stupid clothes and jewelry, being_ grateful _he might let me go one day, and they're out there looking for a new Pan! I have to go, now! I have to re-bond before it's too late! Once I'm back, they won't bother looking anymore. I don't have to wait for Hook to let me go, I can escape and go home on my own!_

Suddenly feeling foolish for her complacency, Peter hurriedly made plans for her immediate departure. The things Nibs had brought her were still in the sack, and there was nothing else in this tiny room that she cared to take with her. Peter hurriedly changed into her shift and tied the sack to a sash about her waist so that her hands could remain free. Remaining barefooted for stealth's sake, she padded to the door and quietly eased it open. I need a weapon, just in case. Smee's on watch… how late is it? Full moon tonight, that works against me. Silent as a cat and grinning in anticipation, Peter crept through the ship and began her daring escape.

She was going home, _tonight!_

* * *

 **A/N** : Sorry if this chapter sounds a little flat, its a build up for the next chapter so I was conserving most of my energy for that.

OK, for all of you that are still reading this fic, I want to have your opinion on something. Peter is going to attempt to escape, so should I let her suceed? I can conceivably end this fic in a couple of chapters by letting her get away. Or, I can keep going with my original plot idea and have her get recaptured. My original way involves MUCH angst, angry Hook, angry and depressed Peter, etc. The short, lets end this now fic involves just mainly angry Hook. So the question is this: are you ready for the story to be over? I prefer to write this how I wanted to begin with, but if most of my readers say I'm dragging it out too far, I might just go ahead and conclude the fic.  
I do reserve the right to do my own thing despite your majority vote, but I am interested in knowing what you think. Put your vote in a review or email me. I'd appreciate it, thanks.

 **About Peter's Real Name** : for those of you that have asked, if I write this the way I originally wanted, we WILL eventually learn Peter's real name. If I end it sooner, you'll have to wait for a sequel I may or may not write.


	28. A Very Bad Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers for your votes and your feedback. You helped me find inspiration. I've decided my path for this fic, and I'll let you discover my decision at the end of this chapter. Thanks again, and please keep reading and reviewing - it helps me find the willpower to sit down and write.  
> Warning: some violence in this chapter... depending on your sensibilities, its more than "some" violence. Will be more violence in the next chapter. Also, this chapter has not passed my usual betas, so if you see an issue I'd appreciate an email pointing it out.

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers for your votes and your feedback. You helped me find inspiration. I've decided my path for this fic, and I'll let you discover my decision at the end of this chapter. Thanks again, and please keep reading and reviewing - it helps me find the willpower to sit down and write.  
Warning: some violence in this chapter... depending on your sensibilities, its more than "some" violence. Will be more violence in the next chapter. Also, this chapter has not passed my usual betas, so if you see an issue I'd appreciate an email pointing it out.

* * *

Chapter 28

Billy held perfectly still, ears straining to catch the sound that had awakened him. Growing up on a pirate ship had taught him to sleep lightly, and he'd learned that lesson harder than any full grown man that sailed the seven seas. A boy, especially a colored one, on a ship was just too easy a target for men who had anything but Billy's best interests in mind. His hand tightened on the hilt of the dagger beneath his pillow, wondering if he'd merely heard Mason tossing in his sleep. It wouldn't be the first time a purely innocuous noise had awakened him, and it had truly been a long time since he'd feared a shipmate attacking him in his sleep… but a Lost Boy sneaking about the ship on a dare was bound to do anything.

He heard it again, a low creak of a hinge in need of a little oil, followed by a small hiss of someone afraid they'd made too much noise. Billy continued to feign sleep, knowing better than to tip his hand. After a few seconds, he heard a light rustle signifying the sneak had gone back to whatever he was doing. Billy eased his eyes open and looked towards the source of the sound, noticing immediately that the room was dimly lit by a small candle. He felt a small jolt of surprise when the faint illumination revealed that the sneak was none other than Peter Pan. He felt another jolt when he realized she was going through the weapons locker.

 _What are you after?_ he mused, immediately realizing the obvious answer to his stupid question. There wasn't anything in that trunk but knives, swords, and guns. The real question was _why_ did she want a weapon? What was she up to? He supposed if she was after a blade, then it was a very good thing he hadn't given her that sword. There was no sense in making it easy for her to get her hands on a blade, not if she needed one this badly. _Where the hell did she get the key to the locker? Only Hook and Smee have one._ Billy wouldn't have been terribly surprised if the girl had managed to talk the bosun into giving it to her, she'd _always_ been able to charm the old coot into doing things, even as a boy.

Peter finally seemed to have found what she was looking for, a large dagger that was big enough to be useful, but not as awkward as a full sword. She smiled as she stood and tucked the blade into the sash about her waist. Billy closed his eyes when Pan glanced about the room one last time and he didn't open them again until he heard her soft, bare feet pad away. Deciding to find out what the girl was up to before rousing the others, Billy slipped out of his hammock and followed her out onto the deck.

* * *

Peter suppressed a chuckle as she tiptoed past the snoring bosun, more out of habit than from any fear he'd wake up. She'd rummaged through every one of his pockets before finally finding the key to the weapons locker, and the most the man had stirred was to snort loudly and mutter something unintelligible to someone named Ethel. Giving Smee a fond wink and a nod of thanks, Peter crept to the dingy and stowed her small sack in the prow. Once it was lowered, she'd have to jump into the water and climb into the craft, and she didn't want her belongings to get waterlogged or, worse, to sink. Fortunately she'd seen the pirates operate the davit enough to know how to lower the dingy, but she still worked the crank awkwardly, clumsily lowering the ship's smallest boat to the briny.

 _This is too easy,_ she thought, smiling, when the craft was finally floating in the bay. _Goodbye, Codfish, its been a real treat. I'll come visit sometime._ She swung a leg over the railing and sat straddling it for a moment, staring down at the water to gauge her plunge. It wouldn't do to fall and hit the boat. Fortunately, the bright moonlight was enough for her to see the dingy in the water and ensure that her decent would be safe. She leaned over, intent on pulling her other leg over the railing and letting herself drop into the water, but something snagged her by her upper arm and jerked her backwards. Peter barely-stifled her cry as she fell onto the deck, and before she could react something heavy fell atop her, the heavy weight of a body settling on her thighs. Peter growled in defiance and lashed out with her fists, but her attacker's hands grasped her by her wrists and pinned them to the deck on either side of her head. Snarling, Peter glared up at the dark boy leaning over her, only mildly surprised to see who it was.

"Shot and shale, Pan," Billy growled down at the girl he was sitting on, "what do you think yer doin'?"

"Get off, Jukes," Peter hissed angrily, struggling against the boy. He had a surprisingly strong grip on her arms, and no matter how much she bucked she couldn't throw his weight from her legs. She had no idea how Jukes had managed to get the drop on her, but she'd be damned if she was going to let him prevent her from going home.

"No way, Pan, not if yer doin' what I think yer doin," Billy hissed back. He could feel her writhing beneath him and hid his smile, knowing he had the advantage. He was a lot stronger than she was, and he knew it. "Yer tryin' to escape, aren't you? Why? Why go back to those creatures, after everything they've done to you? They hurt us both and here you are tryin' to slip away and go back."

"Let me go, Billy, please," Peter whispered, forcing herself to still and not fight. She didn't like being held down like this, it was resonating too deeply with some of her newly recovered memories, but she focused on the boy's shadowed face and tried to ignore the images of Liam, her uncle, Jonas… "Get OFF!" her voice squeaked as she tried to keep quiet despite her building panic.

"Shh!" Billy hissed, glancing about the deck to make sure they were still alone – not counting the oblivious, snoring bosun. "Calm down, Miss Pan," he murmured, eyes fastening on the door to Hook's cabin. The man was a notorious insomniac and light sleeper – traits Billy suspected were the cause of his perpetual bad mood – and the gunner felt a cold fear that the captain might wake and investigate the small commotion. He'd rather stop Peter himself and talk some sense into her if he could. If Hook discovered what the girl was trying to do, his reaction would be far from pleasant. Billy didn't want to see the girl harmed, not if he could prevent it. He'd actually considered returning to his hammock and pretending to be surprised in the morning when it was discovered that she was gone, but the thought of letting her escape had filled him with unexpected dismay. He didn't _want_ her to leave.

When Peter began struggling again, he tightened his hold and said a shade louder, "Quiet!" The girl began whimpering, the sound so unexpected and alarming that it forced the gunner to return his attention to her. "Please calm down, Peter. If you wake the Cap'n, he'll string us _both_ up – you for tryin' to escape and me for manhandling a lady."

The warning cut through the fog Peter's fear, overcoming her haunting memories with a bigger, more immediate danger. She forced herself to stop moving and go lax, allowing Billy to hold her down. "Let me go, Mr. Jukes," she demanded softly, considering her options and discarding half-formed plans she knew immediately wouldn't work. "I have to go home."

" _This_ is your home now," Billy replied, trying to make his voice sound reasonable. "We've been good to ya, haven't we? We've tried to help ya, despite who you are, and despite the fact that every man on this ship's had a good reason to hate you for a very long time. Those fairies made it clear they don't want you anymore, so why go back?"

"I'm dying," Peter answered simply and honestly, startling herself almost as much as she startled Billy. She'd known it before and thought she'd accepted it as fact, but telling Billy Jukes that she was going to die somehow made it even more real and immediate. It scared her.

"What?" Billy asked, caught off guard by that answer. Unconsciously he relaxed his grip on the girl's wrists, and it was all the opening Peter needed. Reacting more on instinct than thought, the girl wrenched her arms free and sat up, shoving the boy backwards as she rose. Once she was more upright her fists swung, catching the boy across the cheek with a left even as her right drove into his gut, knocking the air from his lungs in a sudden rush. Billy fell aside, dazed and his vision swimming.

Peter didn't waste a single moment. As soon as Jukes's weight was gone she jumped to her feet, dismissing him from her mind. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, but she knew that he'd be fine – maybe a little bruised. Without another moment's hesitation, Peter ran for the railing, leaping atop and over it in the space of a heartbeat, afraid to pause for fear that Billy might recover sooner than she anticipated. For the space of a second she felt herself falling, her skirts billowing around her as she plummeted, and then cold, dark water encased her body.

 _Free!_ She thought exultantly, her head breaking the surface. _Free, but not safe._ _Keep moving! Jukes will rouse the ship!_ There was no turning back now; it was either escape or die trying. She knew Hook, and she knew that if he foiled her escape attempt she'd likely never get another chance to try again. If he didn't outright kill her, he'd confine her as he'd done in the early days of her captivity. Getting away after that would become almost impossible, unless her friends came to rescue her.

She swam for the dingy and pulled herself into it, mindful of how precious little time she had. She managed to untie the boat and had barely begun to row when she heard the gunner's ragged call of "Pan overboard, she's escaping!" The ship's bell began to clang wildly a moment later and Peter pulled the oars for all she was worth, praying she had enough of a head start and intending to make every moment count. _So much for my clean getaway._

* * *

 _She tricked me!_ Billy fumed angrily as he continued to yank the bell rope. _I tried to help her and she sucker punched me! She's a traitor! I trusted her!_ "Pan overboard!" he yelled again, ignoring the aches in his jaw and belly as he drew another gasping breath. Smee was awake at last, confused and panicked as he tried to figure out what the alarm was for. _Blithering idiot,_ Jukes thought caustically, knowing that if the bosun hadn't been asleep on his watch then Peter wouldn't have been able to slip away so easily. Billy deliberately ignored the fact that if he'd raised the alarm when he first saw what Pan was up to, this wouldn't have happened either.

Jukes dismissed all thoughts of the bosun when Hook's door flew open and the captain strode out, looking murderous. He was mostly dressed, missing his coat, cloak, and hat, but as always his sword and cat were in their proper places on his belt. Billy instantly ceased ringing the bell and stood up straight, praying that the captain wouldn't take this out on him.

"What's the alarm, Jukes?" Hook snapped, holding his anger at bay. He hoped for Pan's sake that he'd misheard the gunner's cry. Billy's hand absently drifted to his face and the captain watched darkly as the boy wiped away a thin trickle of blood from his nose.

"Miss Pan's taken the dingy. I tried to stop her but she got the better of me and jumped ship." Billy pointed as he spoke and Hook strode to the railing, his gaze sweeping the bay. He saw her immediately and his anger coalesced into cold, hard rage. _So, this is my reward for being kind. I will_ not _make that mistake again, Pan. You will deeply regret this little escapade._ "Ready the longboat! Cookson, Mason, Starkey, Smee!" he barked at the men that tumbled onto the deck, "Man the oars!" He pointed to Billy, his eyes burning with fury. "Jukes and Mullins, man Long Tom. Slow her down with cannon-fire and see if you can capsize her. I _won't_ be upset if she's anything short of dead when I get my hand on her. MOVE!" he roared, though he hardly needed to yell. The men were already carrying out his orders with rare urgency, each one knowing they'd be seriously harmed if Pan got away due to _their_ screw-up.

Jukes and Mullins had the cannon primed and ready by the time the rest of the crew launched the longboat. The bright, clear night made aiming mere child's play for the gunner, and he hesitated only a moment before he fired.

"Damn, Billy, you tryin' to blow her outta the water?" Mullins asked when the cannonball struck the water two yards off the girl's port side. The waves from the impact set the small craft to spinning about in the water.

"I will if I have to," Jukes answered grimly, already reloading. "We trusted her, Robert. We took her in, treated her better than she deserved, and the first chance she gets she deserts us."

Mullins grunted as he helped the gunner aim for the next shot, positioning Long Tom according to Billy's coordinates. "Well, she's a woman, and women can't be trusted. I warned ya, Billy-boy."

"She's not a woman," Billy growled, feeling like a fool for forgetting what she really was. "She's Peter Pan, our enemy, and I won't be forgetting that ever again." He fired his second shot, watching with grim satisfaction as the ball struck a yard off Peter's starboard bow. The craft spun again, forcing the girl to lose more precious time to get it back under control – seconds where Hook closed the distance between the two boats.

"She gets ten yards from shore," Billy warned, his eyes narrowed with concentrated fury, "and I'm sinking her."

* * *

Hook stood in the longboat, glare fixed steadily on the girl in the other vessel. She was struggling to keep herself on course, Jukes's well-placed shots kept upsetting her craft. The latest explosion had rocked her so badly that for an instant Hook thought she would capsize, but unfortunately Pan remained upright and soon was once more making her way towards the shore. She was getting closer to land, but Hook was getting closer to _her_. She wouldn't escape, Hook swore his life upon that.

The men pulled the oars for all they were worth, wary of the captain's silence. Hook only went stone silent when he was deeply enraged, and in this state he was likely to do anything. Knowing well his capacity for unimaginable cruelty when he was this angry, each man remained quiet and alert, determined to recapture Pan so Hook would have some other hapless victim to vent upon. Most of them felt sympathetic for the girl, but not enough to risk their own hides on her behalf.

 _I've done_ everything _!_ Hook thought, glaring at his quarry. _I sheltered you, fed you, clothed you. I_ protected _you from your godparents! I've given you comfort and care, more than you ever deserved from me!_ He thought of the times he'd held her while she wept, distraught by her nightmares and memories. His ire only increased when he remembered the warm concern he'd allowed himself to feel for her. _I was a fool! How could I have let myself care for Peter Pan? She is my_ enemy _,_ _she's given me nothing but pain and grief since I met her._

Hook clenched his fist even tighter. She'd betrayed his trust and her betrayal hurt him more deeply than he would have ever believed. This pain hurt worse then when she'd cut off his hand… this pain was in his heart, a place he'd thought had long ago hardened to stone. Captain Hook knew of only one way to deal with that kind of pain – turn it to anger and hate, and return it tenfold to the one that had caused it.

"Flee for your life, Peter Pan," Hook growled, his voice low and cold, "because if I catch you, I might just kill you."

Hearing Hook's words, Starkey began to pray for the girl's escape, even as he continued to row with all his strength to help recapture her.

* * *

"Damn it!" Peter swore softly as another explosion of water crashed over her, rocking the boat violently. Water filled the bottom of her craft past her ankles, but that was the least of her worries. Hook was gaining on her. Peter glanced over her shoulder at the shoreline and began pulling at the oars again, trying to avoid looking at the approaching longboat. Hook's ominous figure threatened to freezer her with fear, fear she couldn't afford right now. _Fear will get me nowhere. Fear is a prison, and I will not be caged_. _Not again, not ever again!_ There was a time not so very long ago when she would have laughed at this chase, considering it a fine adventure, but too much had happened to her since that time. She'd lost her naïve innocence since then and learned once more the taste of true fear.

She was close, though, so very close to the shore that it was maddening. She would make it though. Even with Jukes's interference she knew she would reach land before Hook, and once she was ashore she knew she was free. Neverland was her home and she knew its hidden places intimately. There was no way Hook or his men would find her once she made it into the forest. _So close; I'm almost home!_

Another explosion rent the air as Long Tom fired another shot. "I'm gonna _kill_ Jukes," Peter muttered in annoyance, bracing for another inundation of water. But instead of the expected splash, this time there was a sickening crack of wood as the cannonball slammed into the aft of her boat. The dingy disintegrated in a shower of planks and nails, and Peter screamed as the force of the impact threw her into the water. She floated motionless below the waves, stunned.

 _Pan!_ the call cut through her shock, startling her back into awareness. She could feel the island reaching for her, urging her onwards, promising her protection if only she could make it to safety.

Peter swam, clawing upwards through the water towards air, and after a seeming eternity her head broke the surface. She gasped, lungs sucking in much needed air, and she allowed herself a few precious moments to catch her breath while she got her bearings. Debris littered the surface, but beyond that she saw the other boat gliding swiftly through the waves towards her. Hook stood in the stern and she realized with dismay that he was close enough for her to see his face. He glared at her murderously, lips compressed into a bloodless line, his eyes burning red…

Peter choked back a moan, turned about and swam frantically away from her pursuers. The shoreline beckoned to her and she plowed towards it desperately, despite the knowledge that it was now hopeless. She'd lost her advantage. Hook was too close and getting closer.

 _Don't give up,_ she chided herself, pushing away her despair. _Fight if you have to. Don't give up without a fight!_ She was so close! Over the sound of the breaking waves, she heard the oars cutting the water, heard the labored breathing of the men, heard Hook's snarl of anger…

"NO!" she screamed as something snagged the back of her shift and hauled her bodily out of the water. She kicked wildly, connecting with Mason's arm as he reached for her. Her hand went to her dagger and pulled the weapon free of her sash, barely bringing it to bear before she was pulled aboard. As Peter spun about, she struck with the blade, intending to make the man that held her let go. The blade cut across something yielding and Peter saw a dark stain spread across a white shirt. The hand holding her let go in surprise. Peter instinctively jumped away, barely avoiding the viscous claw that struck out at her in retaliation. She plunged into the water once more and resumed her desperate swim.

She was forced to relinquish her blade, unable to swim with it in hand and lacking the time to tuck it back into her sash. She heard the sounds behind her again, heard Hook's muttered obscenities getting louder, closer. Panic threatened to consume her. _I just want to go home! I didn't want to hurt you,_ any _of you, I just want to be me again!_ Peter sensed more than saw the shadow looming over her, and she dove into the water, evading the hand that grabbed for her again. She remained submerged for as long as possible, continuing towards land, and when she finally broke the surface again she was close enough to the shore to put her feet down and run. Not daring to look back, Peter gathered her skirts and held them above her knees, running the last few feet through the shallows towards the beach, and beyond that the freedom of the forest.

"PAN!" Hook's voice roared from much too close behind her, and Peter could hear the splashing of large, booted feet racing behind her. Then she was on dry sand, sharp shells poking and scratching the soles of her feet, and she felt hot tears quicken in her eyes as she tried in vain to run faster. A heartbeat later Hook's splashing steps became muffled as he too emerged onto the beach, the man's much longer strides giving him the deciding advantage over her, enabling him to close the distance between them.

Something hard and unforgiving slammed into Peter's back, driving her forward with such force that she fell face-first onto the sand. Instantly she got her hands and knees beneath her, trying to push herself back up to run again, but a booted foot kicked her from the side, driving into her stomach and sending her sprawling onto her back. Bright lights streaked across her vision and bile rose in her throat, her chest constricting so tightly with pain that she was unable to breathe. _No-no-nonono!_

Hook glared at the girl, seething with rage. A line of fire burned across his chest where the brat's blade had scratched him and his shirt was wet with blood. He couldn't believe the little bitch had had the unmitigated _gall_ to attack him! He'd only intended to capture her and have her put in irons upon their return, despite his desire to inflict physical punishment on her, but after she'd struck the first blow Hook had lost all of his remaining compunctions against harming her. If she wanted to fight, they'd fight, and Hook intended to ensure that she would think again about _ever_ fighting him again.

He bent down and snagged the front of her dress with his claw and hoisted her up, holding the girl so that her feet dangled a good foot above the ground. "I've got you, Pan," he snarled triumphantly. "Surrender, or I'll have to hurt you."

The bands of pain around Peter's chest finally relaxed and the girl sucked in a shuddering breath. The blackness receded from her vision as she drew a few more gasps of air, and she startled to see Hook's face so close to her own. "Let go!" she yelled, grappling with the arm that held her. She kicked at the man frantically, trying to force him to release her. One foot caught Hook solidly on his thigh, mere inches from the place Peter remembered as the tenderest of the male anatomy, and Hook jerked in alarm at her near miss. Peter was about to pull her foot back and try again, but at that moment something slammed into the side of her face, sending flaring agony though her head and down her spine. Blackness once more encroached upon her vision, but this time it swallowed her entirely despite her struggles to remain conscious.

Hook watched the girl intently, feeling a swell of satisfaction when her head lolled to the side, her body relaxed and her eyes slid shut. His knuckles stung from backhanding her so hard, but that pain was easily disregarded in face of the sheer pleasure he derived from striking her. Blood began to drip from Pan's nose and split lip, the liquid black in the moonlight, and the man took a moment to wonder if he'd struck her too hard. Another moment later he discovered he didn't care. She deserved whatever he decided to do to her. _Now if she'll just_ stay _unconscious, she might live to see daybreak._

He turned back to the surf, where his men were pulling the longboat onto the beach. The captain strode across the sand to meet them, shoving the limp girl into Mason's startled grasp. "Bind her hands and feet, and toss her in the boat. We're going back, now." Without another word, Hook settled onto his customary seat in the craft and waited for the men to obey.

They were halfway to the ship when Peter returned to her senses. The first thing she was aware of was the pain, a throbbing agony in her head that made everything hurt, including her teeth and the very hairs on her head. The next thing that caught her attention was the nausea, a burning, roiling stone in her stomach that kept threatening to force vileness into her throat. She groaned, trying to move, and that was when she noticed the manacles around her ankles and wrists. Her hands were bound before her, a small consideration that allowed her to push herself up into a kneeling position. That movement sent new levels of pain and nausea through her, but she ignored it for now. She had other, larger worries.

She heard water lapping on wood, heard men grunting in time, the sound coupling with a slightly jerky sense of motion. _Hook's caught me, he's taking me back to the ship,_ she realized with sinking despair. She opened her eyes and found herself kneeling before a familiar pair of boots. Ignoring her discomfort, Peter managed to lift her head to meet Hook's glare, the man's face shadowed and malevolent in the moonlight.

"You have made a very grave error, Pan," the man's cold voice washed over her, making her shudder with dread. "Sit still and don't make things any worse for you."

Peter turned her head and looked at the other men in the longboat, watching them for a few seconds as they rowed, taking her further away from her home with every stroke. None of them would look back at her. Behind them she could see the dark bulk of the _Jolly Roger_ getting closer. _I won't go back. I WON'T!_ She rose a little on her knees, looking back at Hook. Behind him she could see the peaks of Neverland's mountains, the island still close enough to give her a semblance of hope. She didn't know if she could swim while bound in chains, but she was willing to try. She'd _die_ trying if she had to.

Needing a distraction, Peter thought quickly and immediately hit upon an idea, a ruse she'd used before. She let herself go still, her eyes widening in feigned fear and she flung out her arms to point across the port side. "The croc!" she squeaked fearfully, hoping the men would fall for her trick.

Every head turned towards the indicated direction, and Smee half-stood in the boat to get a better look across the dark water. Taking the opening, Peter flung herself over the starboard side of the boat, intent on getting as far away as she possibly could before the men had time to recover and pursue her again. She knew she was unlikely to escape, but she wasn't going to stop trying, not while there was even a slim chance she could succeed. She fell towards the water and braced herself, but instead of falling into cold water, she felt hot agony in her upper right arm as cold steel hooked into her flesh, snagging her and halting her plunge. The pain increased tenfold when the hook snatched back, jerking her into the boat. She screamed, flailing and kicking to no avail.

Hook wrenched his claw from the girl's arm, oblivious to the blood that covered it and streamed down Pan's arm. His good hand clamped about her thin neck and squeezed as he dragged her forward, holding her face inches from his own. "You willful little bitch!" he snarled, squeezing harder. "I am going to break you, and when I'm through with you, you won't even _sneeze_ without my permission!" He took a few more moments to watch the girl strangle, wishing there was enough light to see the shades of color her face must be changing to, and then threw her facedown in the bottom of the boat. He planted a boot firmly between her shoulder blades and sat down, pinning her fast.

"Row," he ordered, sounding far calmer and saner than he felt. "It's past Pan's bedtime." He smiled when his men complied, cocking an eyebrow as he watched the girl struggle beneath his foot. Inside, his rage still burned hot, continuously stoked by Peter's insistence on fighting him instead of surrendering. As they drew closer to the ship, he became more and more determined to do everything in his power to cure his captive of her defiance once and for all.

In the bottom of the boat, Peter tried to wriggle free of the boot that had her pinned, sobbing in pain and despair. She had been so close! Her feet had been on solid ground for a few brief seconds, and for Hook to so quickly capture and carry her away again filled her with bitterness. "I hate you, Codfish!" she screamed, her hands clenching into fists that she slammed into the planks beneath her.

"Not as much as you're going to hate me shortly, Pan," Hook replied evenly, fingering the cat o'nine on his belt. "You've been a very bad girl." He smiled as she began to sob.


	29. Hook's Wrath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Peter made no further escape attempts for the rest of the short journey back to the ship, but not from a lack of will. Once she determined that she could not dislodge Hook's foot from her back, she ceased her flailing and lay still, conserving her strength for the next opportunity to present itself. She hurt, worse than she'd hurt in quite awhile, but the pain was nothing she couldn't deal with. Her arm was in agony where the claw had gouged her, throbbing and hot. Her head ached, and overwhelming nausea gripped her from the boat's unceasing sway. The rest of her was chilled by the night air, her soaking wet dress offering her no warmth. But these bodily miseries paled in comparison to the misery in her heart at having failed her escape, tinged by a gnawing fear of Hook's wrath.

Peter heard the men's rowing cease and felt the boat shift as the pirates fastened the lines and climbed a ladder up the side of the ship to man the davit. Peter waited for Hook to remove his foot and pull her out of the boat, but the man continued to sit in unmoving silence. A seeming eternity later the boat jerked and began to rise, the pirates hauling it into its berth with their captain and prisoner still aboard. It wasn't until the longboat was secured and Peter heard Mason give the all-clear before Hook moved. The girl tensed and waited for her chance to try again.

Hook's large hand grasped the back of her dress and hauled her upright with no more consideration than if she'd been a sack of flour. Peter winced, as much at the pain in her arm as the nausea from the sudden motion. The longboat swayed slightly in its berth, making her world spin even more. Peter wondered for an instant if Hook intended to carry her to the deck, or if he'd let her go long enough to climb down on her own. If he would only let go, just for a moment, she could dive back into the sea…

"Mason!" Hook bellowed, pulling the girl before him roughly. "Catch!"

The grip on the nape of her shirt tightened, and she felt the man's hook snag the material at her waist. He lifted her up by the dual holds on her clothing, suspending her in a most undignified manner. Just as she realized what the man intended to do, she found herself flying through the air towards Mason, who had his arms out to catch her. As she fell into his waiting grasp, Peter brought up her fists and slammed her metal cuffs into Mason's temple as hard as she could. The large pirate dropped like a stone beneath her and she found herself sprawled atop his bulk. She immediately rolled off the man and clambered to her feet, eyes darting about as she marked where each pirate stood and calculated her options.

"PAN!" Hook roared as he leapt from the longboat to land upon the deck, and the girl flinched in the face of his rage. She turned quickly, gimping her stride to run as fast as her fettered legs would allow her.

Starkey jumped in front of her, blocking her path and forcing Peter to alter her course. She turned to her left to find Jukes standing there with a net in his hands, his eyes glittering angrily and a small grin on his face. A quick glance in the opposite direction showed Mullins standing there. Cookson and Smee joined the circle, further closing her avenues of escape. She was surrounded.

"Starkey, Jukes, please!" Peter urged, trying to find a way out of the trap. "He's going to kill me!"

The gunner's eyes darted to the dark stain on the sleeve of her dress before returning to her injured face. His own face throbbed in sympathy, but that sympathy barely touched his heart. Billy didn't think Hook would really kill her, probably wouldn't even hurt her much… not if she found some sense and quit fighting the man. If she continued to provoke him, then she only had herself to blame for what the captain did to her. Hook quickly disabused Jukes and the rest of the men of any notions that he might go easy on the girl.

"Oh, I can do much worse than kill you," Hook snarled, coming up behind Peter and grabbing a fistful of her hair before she could turn to face him. He yanked as hard as he could, making her stumble back and cry out. He turned around and strode quickly towards the mainmast, dragging Peter along behind him. The girl gripped his arm, protesting the agony in her scalp and trying unsuccessfully to get her feet under her so that she could walk.

Upon reaching the mast, Peter found herself unceremoniously shoved against it so that her cheek was pressed firmly against the wood, the hand gripping her hair keeping her head pinned in place. Peter heard Smee shout, "Cap'n, don't!" and in her periphery she saw Hook's claw arcing down towards her. Desperately trying to find some way to slip out of Hook's hold, she screamed, frightened, when the cruel steel sliced through the back of her dress. Even as she realized that her skin was still intact, the claw came down again, rending the material even more. In a few brutal swipes, the back of Peter's shift was destroyed, laying open the cloth to expose her skin.

"What do you think you're doing?" Peter yelled, indignant, her heart hammering wildly.

Hook merely continued to glare at her without answering, too upset to speak. She'd find out soon enough what he was doing, and she'd learn the consequences of her defiance. She'd manipulated him from the start, just like a woman, and it was no longer merely amusing. She'd gone too far this time. She'd used his regard for the fairer sex against him to keep him from killing her. She'd fed him tales of how terribly she'd been treated to garner his sympathy. She'd pretended to accept her lot here to lull him into trusting her. She'd made him _care_ , the most grievous of her crimes. She'd taken his trust and spat upon it, she'd used his feelings to hurt him deeply, and now she was going to _pay_. No one made a fool of James Hook and got away with it; very few lived to regret it.

He jerked her away from the mast just long enough to snag the manacles on her wrists and wrench her arms above her head. Peter gave a pained cry and tried to pull away, but the captain easily overpowered her and held her still. He looped the chain over a hook on the mast just above her head and let her go.

Peter pivoted about to put her exposed back against the mast, elbows level with her nose and hands above her head, warily watching the man while she tried to tug her restraints free. But try as she might, she couldn't quite get the right leverage to lift the chains off of the hook. Her injured arm screamed with pain, hampering her movements, but she continued her efforts with increasing desperation when she saw the man remove the cat'o'nine from his belt.

"Unless you want me to mar that pretty face, Pan," Hook sneered as he gave the cat a few test flicks, "you had best show me your back." He raised his arm threateningly, too angry to care if she turned or not. The men began to mutter when they saw Hook's intentions, uncomfortable with the idea of seeing a young girl flogged, but none of them dared to try and stop the man.

Peter spun about quickly, seeing the vicious glint in the man's eye and realizing that he was indeed going to strike her. She heard a resounding crack as soon as her chest was to the mast, the sound coupled with a sudden searing agony across her back. It felt as if the flesh was being flayed from her bones, and she didn't even try to bite back her scream. The cat struck again and Peter's cry ended in a choked gasp as the force of the blow drove the air from her lungs. A third blow fell and then a fourth before Peter found her voice once more. Agonized and shrill, she screamed her hurt for all of Neverland to hear.

Hook paused after the sixth strike, the girl's frenzied shrieks dampening his rage to a more controllable blaze. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the welts and shallow cuts he'd inflicted, contemplating if her punishment was sufficient or if she warranted more. He wanted to hurt her, yes, but he didn't want to cause her too much bodily damage. The girl was wailing now, great wrenching sounds that made his lips twist into a satisfied sneer. She was damned lucky he wasn't using his old cat'o'nine, a vicious flog that had barbs on the tips of its tassels, made for shredding the hide off the toughest seaman's back. But victims of _that_ cat's scratch were prone to dying of infection, and his current shortage of crew had forced him to lighten his punishments considerably. _One lick from that and she'd beg me for forgiveness, wholeheartedly pledging her obedience to me._ She'd betrayed him, she'd hurt him, and she deserved to suffer horribly… Hook shook himself, pushing away his barbarous thoughts. _I won't kill her and I won't scar her. But I will teach her a lesson, one that she will never forget._

"Have you anything to say for yourself, Pan?" Hook demanded. "Perhaps you'd like to apologize?" The girl didn't answer or even acknowledge she'd heard him, so Hook tucked the flail away and took a step closer. He laid his hand on her shoulder and took a closer look at the marks on her back. It was difficult to determine their severity in the moonlight, but a few of the cuts were bleeding, indicating he'd hit her harder than he probably should have. Even as the logical portion of his mind acknowledged that fact, knowing that it was inappropriate to flog a young girl in this manner, the pirate in him reveled in the pain he'd inflicted, savoring her sobs, and hungered to hurt her more.

Hook squeezed her shoulder gently and leaned closer, ensuring she would hear him this time. "Say you're sorry, Pan, and that you'll never defy me again, and this will be over. Smee will take you to your room and doctor your wounds."

Peter went still, her cries ceasing as a jolt of panic shot through her. Hook was too close… _he hurt me, he's gonna hurt me, get away I have to get away let go…_ "Let me go!" she yelled, shrugging her shoulder in an attempt to shake off his hold. The man let go and stepped back again, giving Peter room to turn around and face her enemy. Her back was a mass of suffering, burning and throbbing, and her instincts warned her to keep her injuries away from the one who'd attacked her. Her panic gave way to anger when she looked up at Hook and saw the man's cruel smile. "You villainous, sadistic, misbegotten son of a…"

"Now, now, Pan," Hook chided, anger pulsing beneath his calm façade. It _was_ satisfying, however, to see the tears that shimmered in the moonlight as they pooled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks, and it was her tears that kept him from slitting her throat and being done with the whole sorry affair. "That's not the way to say it at all. You're supposed to say, 'I'm sorry I've been such a sorry little ingrate, Captain. Please forgive me for spitting upon your good will and for betraying your trust. I promise I'll be good from now on and obey you like a proper young lady should.'"

"You're out of your mind," Peter snarled. "I'm not apologizing to you! I'm not sorry for trying to get away, and I'll keep trying until I do! I want to go home! You've no right to keep me prisoner!"

"Prisoner?" Hook repeated in surprise, the girl's words adding insult to injury. "Prisoner! You think I've kept you here as a prisoner? I was your sanctuary! I took you in when no one else wanted you and I gave you comfort when no one else cared! I knew you were short on memory, Pan, but surely you recall what it is like to be a prisoner on my ship!"

"You don't care about me, so don't even pretend!" Peter retorted. "You're a heartless pirate!"

Hook barely held his control, but his anger deepened considerable and muted any pity he might have spared for her. Her words shouldn't have upset him, he was quite proud of his reputation as a pirate, but her accusations that he'd not cared about her, that he'd held her here against her will all this time, incensed him. He felt himself a fool for it now, but he _had_ cared, and even after her collar had been removed, he'd trusted her enough that he hadn't even _thought_ about restraining her. He'd not considered her a prisoner since their compromise, when she'd promised to behave as long as he didn't keep her confined.

"I'll show you heartlessness, Pan!" he snarled as he snatched at her manacles, unhooking the chain from the mast and jerking the girl towards him. He glared into her eyes, noting the defiance within them as she glared back at him. "I'll remind you what it is to be a prisoner of Captain James Hook!" He turned on his heel, pulling the girl along behind him as he strode for the hatch, barking at Mason and Mullins to follow.

When they reached Peter's cabin, Hook shoved the girl into the far corner of the room. Peter cried out as her back slammed into the wall, fresh tears springing to her eyes. She remained in the corner, watching the men warily and waiting for any opportunity to escape even though she knew it was hopeless now. She'd tried and failed, and there was nothing for it now but to deal with whatever consequences Hook had in mind.

Hook surveyed the room, his gaze falling upon the emerald earrings lying on the vanity. He snatched them up, clutching them tightly for a moment before tucking them away safely into the pocket of his breeches. _I was abysmally foolish to have given them to her. She isn't worthy of even saying Mater's name, much less wearing her heirlooms._ "Empty this room, men. If Pan fancies herself a prisoner aboard my ship, then we'll return her to the conditions she endured when she first came aboard. Take everything, down to the last blanket, and have Jukes fetch me a leash."

"What are you doing?" Peter asked, glancing at the men as they began hauling the chairs and table through the door. _Maybe I can slip by Hook while they're gone,_ she mused, but Hook remained rooted in the middle of the room between her and the door, glowering at her darkly. She kept a close watch on him, maintaining a defensive stance in case he decided to hit her again. It had been quite some time since she'd seen the man this furious. After weeks of civility, it was quite a shock to see him once more as the cruel pirate he truly was. For Peter it was affirmation that she'd made the right decision in trying to escape. Hook was not to be trusted and she'd never make that mistake again.

"I gave you every possible comfort, Pan, and you spat on my gifts," Hook replied lowly, his voice cold and calm. "Therefore, I'm taking them all back. You will have nothing – neither comfort nor necessity – until I have my apology from you."

"I don't need anything from you," Peter retorted. "I never wanted your so-called gifts and I never wanted to be forced to stay here! I want to go home!"

Hook's scowl deepened but he refrained from arguing further with the girl. He'd punished her sufficiently for her defiance, but if he let her goad him he knew he'd go too far and possibly kill her. _No, I won't hurt her; I'll let her stubbornness hurt her for me. She'll sit in this room until she surrenders or dies. Either way, she'll never defy me again._ A quiet voice made him turn to see Billy Jukes in the doorway, holding a chain with locks dangling from both ends.

"Tether her to the wall, Mr. Jukes," Hook ordered, returning his glare to Peter. "If she resists, I'll give her an even dozen with the cat." _Do it, Pan, just try to resist, and when I'm done with you you'll be sleeping on your stomach for a month._

Peter's eyes widened at the threat, knowing without a doubt that Hook would flog her again without hesitation. By the way he was watching her, his lips curled into a sinister smile as his eyes bore into her, it seemed like he was _hoping_ she'd give him an excuse to hurt her. Peter held perfectly still while Billy attached the chain to the iron ring in the wall and then knelt before her to fasten the other end to the chains on her feet.

"Check her bindings, Jukes. I don't want her slipping loose when our backs are turned."

Billy gave the shackles a few tugs, verifying they were fastened about her ankles securely. He did the same to the manacles, jerking the chain to make sure the cuffs wouldn't slip off her wrists. When Peter cried out in pain and pulled away, Billy turned his attention to the bloody sleeve of her dress. There was a hole in the cloth just below her shoulder, on the inside of her arm, and the blood had darkened the light blue cloth around the tear and down the sleeve to black. "Cap'n," he called, "she's wounded."

"I know that, imbecile!" Hook snapped. "She's damned lucky I didn't flay the hide off her back!"

"Beggin' yer pardon, sir," Billy insisted, "but it's her arm. Looks like you gouged it." He reached towards the girl, intending to inspect the injury, but Peter shied away from him, backing further into the corner. She bumped into the wall again and gasped, tears of pain welling up in her eyes. "I wasn't gonna hurt ya," Billy told her softly, suddenly feeling like a heel. His previous anger towards her was long gone, having died with the first of her screams when Hook began flogging her. He sincerely wished that he'd just stayed in bed and let her go. If he hadn't raised the alarm, she'd probably be home by now, safe with Miss Wendy and the Lost Boys, - people that loved her and would never hurt her. _I promised Slightly I'd protect her, and look what I've let happen. This is all my fault. I'm sorry, Slightly._ Billy looked up at Hook, "Want me to get Smee to doctor that for her?"

"No," Hook replied, shoving Billy towards the door as he strode towards the girl. Peter glared up at him, but when the man reached for her arm she shifted away and slid to the floor, defensively turning her injuries away from him. Hook sneered at her small act of defiance and stepped away, deciding there was one more thing he needed to do. "She gets _nothing,_ Jukes. Now leave and close the door behind you."

"Aye, aye," Billy answered, ducking his head and scurrying out the door. He spared one last glance at the girl before he left, hoping that he would find some way to help her. He still had his key to her room, so perhaps later he could sneak in to see her and bring something to tend her injuries with.

"Aren't you leaving too, Captain?" Peter asked, her tone of voice indicating that she wanted nothing more than for him to leave. "I'm not going anywhere and you've taken everything…"

"Not everything yet, Pan," Hook interrupted. He pointed at her with his claw, "I'll have that dress now."

"I'm not stripping for you," Peter retorted. "You've seen me naked enough, thank you."

"Don't pretend to modesty, brat," the man growled, his anger rising even higher at her continued disobedience and cheek. His claw arm twitched with the need to silence her, but he refrained from hurting her… physically. "We both know there's nothing chaste about you. You were such a promising little slut before you came to Neverland. You've had more hands up your skirts than I have on deck, and Liam was training you quite well before you got him killed." Peter's face blanched at his words, her mouth opening in shock, and Hook grinned in triumph.

"Liam taught you quite a few tricks," he pressed, "and I'm sure you remember them all now. I wonder what your uncle taught you. I saw your memory of him, I saw him pawing at you before you bashed his head in with a cane. How many times did he have you? Did you kill him for it? You're a murderer, Pan. Your uncle, Liam, that little JoJo whelp you spoke of… is there anyone else to add to your list? Tinkerbell perhaps? You're a liar too, Pan, and when your Godparents finally realized how disgusting you were, they tossed you aside like yesterday's garbage. They only want you back because they don't have anyone to take your place yet."

"No," Peter whispered, her voice shaking with grief. _He's just trying to hurt me,_ she tried to reassure herself, but that did nothing to calm the roaring of voices in her head - memories that had been relatively quiet for most of the day but now were clamoring for her attention. Liam, Jonas, JoJo, Oberon, Uncle Joe, Aunt Rose, Peter… voices screaming at her, filled with accusations. People who'd said they'd loved her yet abandoned her, people that had wanted to hurt her, had wanted things from her they'd had no right to ask for.

He stepped forward again and grabbed the front of Peter's dress, snatching her towards him so that he could get a good look at the pure anguish in her eyes. "No one really wants you, Pan, and why should they? Liar, murderer, whore… your uncle was right. You _are_ worthless. I'm glad I realized that before I wasted another breath on you." Quickly he caught one of her wrists and unfastened the manacle so she could comply with his demand. Once her hands were free he let go of her abruptly and wiped his hand on his breeches, as if wiping away something foul. "Now remove that dress so I can have it properly burned. You don't deserve anything so nice."

Peter stumbled slightly when the man released her, reeling from his words and the memories they stirred within her. He was right, and she hated him for being right, hated him for seeing her for what she really was and making her see it too… for making her hate herself. Tears spilled unheeded from her eyes and her hands shook as she fumbled at the lacing down the front of her bodice. Despite the unsteadiness of her hands, she quickly had the garment loosened. When she tried to pull it over her head, her injured arm flared in agony, as did her back, and she began to cry openly as she fought a loosing battle to get free of the dress.

Hook quickly realized her difficulty and felt a small twinge of sympathy for the girl. She _was_ injured, and he decided to make an allowance for that. Without warning, Hook grabbed a fistful of cloth and yanked upwards, pulling the dress over her head and off. Peter gave another pained yelp and staggered away, clutching her injured arm with her other hand. Hook balled up the dress and sneered at her, relishing the way her skin flushed in humiliation when she realized she was naked. He laughed when she turned away to shield herself from his eyes.

"I've seen your assets before, Pan," Hook chided, yanking her back around so he could quickly chain her wrists back together. "Trust me, I'm not impressed." His prisoner secured once more, he turned and walked towards the door, pausing beside the sconce. I honestly don't know what Liam and the others saw in you. You're certainly nothing to die for, much less waste a half-penny upon…"

"Just go, Captain," Peter said softly, her voice thick with tears. "If I disgust you so much, then leave and don't bother coming back."

"Oh I won't," Hook replied, blowing out the candles in the sconce and plunging the small room into darkness. "Not until you decide to apologize to me. Otherwise, you can damned well rot down here." With that he strode out the door, slamming it shut behind him and locking it.

Naked, hurt and alone in the dark, Peter fell to her knees and wept. Her bodily hurts paled to insignificance beside the utter despair in her soul. Hook's words had ripped her heart to shreds, resonating too strongly with what she'd been told for so much of her life for her to deny their truth. It wasn't until she'd come to Neverland that she'd been able to find some worth in herself. When Tink had made her forget her old life, she'd believed her pixy friend's assurances that she was someone wonderful, that she was worthy of praise and affection. It was all a lie.

 _Pan… please…_ she heard the island's cry, cutting through the chaos of memories, making her Gift throb painfully as it tried to connect with Neverland.

"Shut up," she whispered, covering her ears with her hands and squeezing her eyes shut. It was a fruitless gesture, she couldn't see anyway and the voices were all in her head, but she was helpless to do anything else. "Quit calling me! I can't come back. I'll never come back… you don't really want me. Go away." But her Gift continued to reach and she could almost feel it slowly draining her life away, feeding on her soul. _It's not a Gift, it's a Curse._

It was a long time before she finally curled up on her uninjured side, shivering as she succumbed to exhaustion and fell into fitful, relentless nightmares.

Smee had long since tended the shallow cut on his Captain's chest and taken his leave, working in nervous silence while his patient brooded in dark rage. Now Hook sat in his armchair, finishing off yet another glass of rum while he glared at a painting on an easel. The portrait of a girl smiled back at him, her eyes glinting with mischievousness. The Captain was no great artist, but he could effectively reproduce images that had captured his heart, and Peter Pan had long been a favorite model of his. He had very few surviving pieces of the boy. His rage had tended to get the better of him and the sketches and paintings usually suffered the fate the model unfailingly avoided. This piece had been his first attempt to capture his Kitten on canvas, and he'd nearly completed it, inspired by the vision of her the night she'd promised to reward him one day with her true name. He'd seen so much potential in her that night, falling in love with the idea of the woman she might become one day.

 _Be kind to me, give me a life worth living, earn my trust and my regard, and there'll never be any secrets between us_ , she'd said, and in that moment he'd have done anything for her to earn that trust.

 _Be kind to me._ "I was kind, Kitten," he whispered. "I've never been kinder to another soul in my life. Why was it not enough?" _I'm dying and you knew it_ , her voice replied. _What kindness is it to keep me here, when you know that I am in pain and only re-bonding would save me?_ Hook had no answer for the voice.

 _Give me a life worth living._ "I tried. I gave you shelter and food; I gave you beautiful dresses and jewelry." _A life worth living, Captain,_ his conscience argued, still in Pan's voice. _What life would ever be worth living as the property of another? You made it clear to me that I was merely your possession, kept alive for your amusement in your quest for vengeance._

"I thought I was gaining your trust, Kitten," Hook mused, pouring himself another glass of rum. He was verging on drunk and he didn't care, deciding to follow Pan's example from the night before and murder this day as quickly as possible. Surely she _had_ trusted him. Hook couldn't see Pan lowering her defenses and getting drunk if she hadn't felt safe in his company. Before that, she'd come to him with her troubles, seeking his advice and comfort. She wouldn't have done that if she'd not trusted him on some level. _Where did I go wrong? What happened that you ceased trusting me and sought to flee? Was it something that I did, or was it all a lie?_

"You were pretending all this time," Hook snarled, downing most of his glass. He rose to his feet, swaying as the room began to list about him. "I should have known. You were always a great pretender, brat; I should never have trusted anything you said. I should have kept you locked below all this time… I should have sunk you to the depths! You lying harlot!" he shouted as he hurled the glass at the portrait. The goblet shattered, splattering the painting with red liquid. Peter's face continued to smile.

"I'll teach you to trifle with me, Kitten," Hook promised, staggering to his bed. He flung himself atop the blankets, not even bothering to remove his boots or his claw. "You'll be a good girl, or you'll die… I'll wring your scrawny little neck myself if I have to."

Hook slipped into unconsciousness, his dreams haunted by images of Peter Pan. Pan the boy darted about him, laughing cockily as he flitted about, hurling insults at the man. Kitten stood by his side, smiling up at him demurely as she spoke, making witty jokes for his entertainment. Miss Pan stood by the railing of his ship, silent as she stared longingly at the island, her heartache stamped plainly upon her face. Peter sat huddled in the dark, naked and weeping, shouting defiance at him for holding her captive. One by one Hook saw them, and one by one he murdered them, hearing them scream as he plunged his hook into their small hearts. After he killed the last one he looked around at their lifeless bodies strewn about the deck, dead eyes staring at him reproachfully.

He screamed then, roaring from the pain of losing something he could never have, of knowing that he'd always destroy the things he wanted most… knowing that he would always be alone and that he'd never ever be loved.


	30. Apology and Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 30

Chapter 30

" _As I went home on Monday night_ ," Peter's voice rang out in the darkness, singing loudly with a rather exaggerated Irish lilt, " _as drunk as drunk could be. I saw a horse outside the door, where my old horse should be._ " Her bare feet stepped to the rhythm of the song as she made yet another slow circuit around her room, her left hand trailing along the wall. The chain that tethered her to the back wall was long enough for her to walk most of the way around the cell while maintaining contact with the wall, yet was short enough to make it impossible for her to reach the door latch no matter how much she stretched. Lying full length along the floor, chain and body stretched taut, it was to her eternal frustration that her fingers would barely slip through the crack beneath the door. Fiddling the lock was quite out of the question.

" _I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me, who owns that horse outside the door, where my old horse should be?_ " Liam had taught her this song and it was but one among many tunes he'd enjoyed bellowing (she couldn't quite call it singing, Liam couldn't carry a tune if it was strapped to his back). She barely noticed the slight resistance on the chain, her subconscious count of her steps informing her that she'd reached its limit. She pivoted on her heel, turning a neat corner to continue her circuit.

" _Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see. That's a lovely sow that my mother sent to me._ " Smee had liked her songs and had even joined her briefly in a rather entertaining tune (Was it two days ago? Three?), until Hook's angry yell from above had cut the bosun off and sent him scurrying from her room. " _Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more, but a saddle on a sow, sure, I never saw before._ " When Starkey came the next day, he'd whispered that Smee had been punished for disobeying Hook's orders by speaking to her. No one had uttered a word to her since, and Peter had eventually given up trying to get them to talk.

She continued to sing and walk, forcing herself to remain active, to keep herself distracted at all costs. Eventually she would have to sit; she didn't have the energy to keep this up for long, and when she rested she would have to do something else to keep herself distracted, to keep herself from thinking. Thinking was something she hated with a passion. She'd done all the thinking she needed in her first day alone in the dark, and she was quite proud of herself for getting it out of the way early on. Waking that first morning, cold, hungry and distraught, she'd sat in the corner and brooded over every misery that plagued her: her memories, playing in her mind in grim detail, filling the dark silence with old faces and voices; her back, aching from the lash and her arm, throbbing and crusted with blood; her wounded Gift, still reaching for the island, still draining her life away; and her future, or the brief, miserable excuse for one she envisioned for herself as Hook's property. She'd cried herself to sleep once more, and when she awoke she'd vowed she'd not cry again. She wasn't going to let Hook win by just giving in and bawling like a baby until he saw fit to let her out.

" _As I came home on Friday night, as drunk as drunk could be. I saw a head upon the bed, where my old head should be._ "

She'd started pacing after that vow, immersing herself in action to help distract herself from the pain. She'd always abhorred inactivity; her life was one of constant motion, of doing things and keeping herself entertained. While she'd paced she'd considered the things that had happened to her, firmly putting behind her the things that she couldn't change so she could decide how best to deal with those things she could. It hadn't taken her long to figure out what she had to do – her options were depressingly few – but the thought of actually doing it had made bile rise in her throat. She'd rather die, actually, but there was more than her own life at stake here. Neverland _would_ die, and all the magical creatures that lived within it would also die. Her friends would be left homeless and Peter had no idea what would happen to them if the island disappeared around them. For all she knew, they would die too.

But she couldn't bring herself to follow through on her decision, too appalled and shamed by what she'd have to do. So she'd continued pacing, sometimes breaking the monotony by changing directions or even – and wasn't _this_ just the pinnacle of excitement – hopping on one foot. She'd contemplated trying to circle the room while doing handstands, but her injured arm was swollen and hot, hurting too much to seriously consider using it to support her weight. She'd settled on merely pacing, spontaneously varying her routine in a desperate bid to alleviate her boredom. But that had been early in her confinement, and she was getting too weak to carry on with such antics. Recently she'd begun having dizzy spells, and she suspected she'd fainted at least once so far. It was hard to tell if she'd merely tripped or actually blacked out when she couldn't see anything and had no concept of time.

When she tired she'd sit and dream, immersing herself in the memories of her various adventures in all of the lives she'd led. With the memory spells gone, she could remember quite clearly the countless games she'd played and daring feats she'd performed during her time in Neverland, and it was sometimes a relief to sit in her favorite corner and lose herself in those fond recollections. It was a source of comfort for her that most of her recovered memories were pleasant, and the dark solitude helped her immerse herself in them so fully that it was like she was reliving them. She found herself slipping into those dreams with more and more frequency, and she wondered how much longer it would be before she stopped moving altogether and spent her days just sitting, lost within her own mind. She knew she needed to get out of here before that happened, but there was no telling how long Hook planned to keep her locked away in this small, dark cabin.

Upon waking this morning she'd faced the truth that she couldn't delay any longer, feeling that time was getting short, and so she had made a simple request when Starkey had made his rounds. The stubborn, willful child within her that was used to getting her way vowed that she'd not be the one to give in, that she was perfectly fine in here and could wait Hook out. He wouldn't truly let her die in here… would he? She couldn't answer that question. She didn't understand Hook's motives anymore, and her uncertainty worried her.

" _I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me, who owns that head upon the bed, where my old head should be._ " She didn't know how long it had been since she'd given her message to Starkey and she had no idea how long she'd have to wait until she received her answer. She wasn't expecting it anytime soon, though. Hook had apparently demanded a very strict routine for her, and no amount of begging could convince any of the pirates to violate the captain's orders.

Once a day the door to her cell opened, and no matter how much she screamed or called or cried it never opened more than just once. Two men would enter, one with his sword drawn, the other (usually Smee or Starkey) bearing an empty bucket and a jug of water. The water was for her to drink during the next twenty-four hours while the bucket was for her to relieve herself in. If she spilled her water or hurled it at the door in a fit of spite, she'd have to do without until that door opened the next day. She'd only done that once and after going thirsty she'd learned not to ever do it again. Her aches and pains and gnawing hunger made her miserable enough without adding thirst to the list. No food ever crossed her threshold and it wouldn't, not until she gave in to Hook's demands. _You will have nothing – neither comfort nor necessity,_ he'd promised, and he'd obviously meant it. Peter guessed that Hook only provided her with water so that she could live long enough to truly regret crossing him. _You can damned well rot down here,_ he'd told her, and she knew he meant it.

" _Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see. That's a baby boy that my mother sent to me. Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more, but a baby boy with his whiskers on, sure, I never saw before._ "

She'd not seen the captain since the night of her failed escape, though she'd heard his voice from time to time as he bellowed orders to his crew. Occasionally she'd discerned his heavy boots treading to her door and she'd drawn herself up in mingled fear and relief, waiting for him to come barging in to yell at her. But he'd always left again without entering or speaking, and even when she'd called to him he'd not replied. Peter didn't understand why, but she'd felt a distinct sense of hurt each time he'd left without even taking the time to gloat. Whether he hated her or not, Hook had only ignored her once before (though not for as long a time) and it upset her that he would do so again now. _Surely I still matter to him. But what if I don't? What if he just leaves me down here forever? What if no one cares about me anymore, not even Hook?_

" _As I came home on a Saturday night, as drunk as drunk could be I spied two hands upon her breasts, where my old hands should be_ ," she sang as loudly as she could, distracting herself from her bleak thoughts. She was getting out of here today, she just knew it. Hook wouldn't leave her here; he _couldn't._ She continued to sing, jingling the chains on her wrists to provide a discordant melody.

Peter paused in her singing at the sound of a key rattling in the door lock. She frowned, realizing she'd failed to hear the tale-tell tread that usually warned her that a visitor was approaching. Biting her lip with sudden apprehension, she ceased her circular pacing and crossed the room to her corner, sitting with her back to the door to shield her nakedness from the captain's eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that it was Hook – she'd requested his presence when Starkey had brought her water earlier today. She smiled briefly when she considered finishing her song when Hook came in, imagining the look on his face when he heard the final lyrics, but she quickly dismissed that notion as petty and dangerous. Now was _not_ the time to antagonize Hook. The door swung open and Peter shielded her eyes, anticipating the sudden light that flooded the room.

Peter heard the man's heavy footfalls as he strode into the room, pausing just inside the doorway. She fixed her gaze upon the back wall, seeing the unmistakable shape of the captain's shadow, framed by the light from the corridor. He didn't say a word, but merely stood there in stony silence, waiting. Peter sighed, forcing away her anxiety as best she could. She wanted to turn to face him, to see his face, but she knew from experience that all she'd see if she looked him was shadows. The light was behind him, unbearably bright after so many days in the dark, and would not illuminate his features at all. At least by facing the wall she could even the scales a little: she couldn't see his face, and he couldn't see hers.

"I'm glad you came," she began, watching the shadow for any reaction. "I was afraid you wouldn't. I need to tell you something…" She swallowed, wondering if she was about to make a big mistake. _Just spit it out, like I planned,_ she chided herself. _Maybe telling him will keep him from doing this to me again. I'd rather have double the lashings than be locked away._

"You're a lot like my uncle," she told him, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. "He hated me too. And when I made him mad, he'd beat me and lock me up." A halfhearted chuckled escaped her lips and she shook her head. "It wasn't enough to just lock me up, though. He did it just like you: he'd strip me naked and throw me in a closet with no light and no food, for days. I nearly died the last time he locked me up. He was drunk, and he got so mad at me…" she trailed off as she remembered the circumstances leading up to that horrifying punishment. "He forgot he'd locked me up and was gone for a couple of days, drinking. At least _you_ gave me water. I knew he was going to end up killing me, and I swore I wouldn't let him lock me up again. That's why I fought him in the memory you saw."

Peter bit her lip again, not in anxiety but in an effort to make herself stop speaking. She remembered Hook's accusations when he'd put her in here, the hurtful conclusions he'd drawn from what he'd seen of her past. _I told him about Liam and he told me I had no reason to be ashamed, but later he called me a whore for it!_ She could feel herself getting angry and took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. If she let her anger at Hook get the better of her, she would alienate him further and then he'd never let her out of this prison.

"But I _am_ sorry, Captain," she continued at last, making her voice as apologetic as she could. She _was_ sorry, but not for the reasons she was about to give. "I'm sorry I ran away. You've done so much for me lately, and I really do appreciate it. You took me in because you wanted revenge, but you never hurt me and you were rarely cruel." She did mean that little part, and the truth gave her voice the sincerity she needed. After thinking about her time on this ship, she'd gained a new appreciation for just how considerate Hook had been towards her, especially given how much he'd wanted to kill her before. "I shouldn't have run, but I did and I'm sorry. I just needed to go home. The Gift hurts so much, and I can feel Neverland reaching for me, calling me. You said you'd let me rebond before it got too late. But it hurt so much and I got scared… I just couldn't wait. I should have come to you, though, and told you what was wrong so you could help me."

Peter turned in her corner then so that she faced Hook, squinting up at him and staring at his shadowed face, trying to make him believe just how sorry she was. _Sorry I got caught, but sorry just the same._ "I apologize for betraying your trust, Captain and I promise I'll be good. Please don't be mad at me anymore."

Even though she couldn't see Hook's eyes, she still felt the intensity of the man's glare as he stood there silent and unmoving. She tried to return his stare, to show her sincerity, but she became more and more anxious under his scrutiny and soon dropped her eyes to the floor. "I don't know what else you want me to say, Captain," she murmured softly. "Tell me what I'm supposed to do and I'll do it. I promise."

"I accept your apology," Hook spoke at last, his voice loud in the confines of the small room.

Peter couldn't help her smile of relief at his words as she looked up at her captor with new hope. Her smile faded somewhat when Hook abruptly turned around and began to leave without saying another word. "Captain?" she called. Hook paused in the doorway and looked back at her. "Are you going to let me out?"

"Out?" he repeated, his voice sharp. "Did you truly think that I would release you from your punishment merely because you apologized? Surely you know me better than that, Pan."

Peter stared at the man, her momentary surprise swiftly turning into disappointment. "No," she lied, "I just hoped… I thought perhaps…" her stammering stopped when she heard Hook's low chuckle, and she stared at him in disbelief. "Please, Hook, you have to let me out! I can't stand it in here anymore!"

"I _have_ to do nothing, Pan," Hook chided in amusement. "You'll come out of this room when _I'm_ ready for you to come out, and not a moment sooner." Before the girl could argue further, Hook shut the door, plunging the room once more into darkness.

Peter stared at the door blindly, hoping the man was merely playing a cruel joke. She heard the keys rattle in the lock, followed by the familiar sound of Hook's heavy footsteps as he walked away. "But I said I was sorry," she whispered, trying to come to grips with the captain's unexpected response.

She'd been so certain that Hook would be mollified by her apology. She'd known beyond a doubt that if she humbled herself to him, he would end her punishment. She hadn't wanted to do it, but the belief that she held the means to end her confinement had given her the strength to endure. Suddenly it dawned on her that Hook might intend to keep her locked in this room until Gloriana found a new Pan. Or even worse, if a new Pan wasn't found then she would die here, alone in the dark. _I can't stay in here, I can't! I'm running out of time, and I can't save them if I'm locked in here!_ "LET ME OUT!" she screamed, desperate to convince the man to release her. "I'M SORRY CAPTAIN! PLEASE LET ME OUT!"

But Hook didn't answer her cries and no one opened her door. Bitter disappointment filled her mouth with bile, and an acute despondency settled over her as she began to realize that she was truly helpless. No one was going to save her and she had no way out. Hook was going to keep her locked away in here until it was too late to save herself or Neverland, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Peter curled into the corner and buried her face in her knees, her Gift flaring briefly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, closing her eyes with grief as she apologized to everyone she cared for and had let down. _Tink, Wendy, my Lost Boys, Chief Panther, Neverland… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry.  
_

* * *

Hook smiled benignly at the small pixy perched upon his tabletop and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Miss Hyacinth, but my answer has not changed. No, you may not examine Peter today." He saw that the Healer was about to retort with her usual scathing remarks and held up his hook to forestall her. "Yes, madam, I know. She's ill and you need to monitor her condition, but the fact remains that she is still being punished. However," he added, "her solitary confinement ends today. If you return tomorrow morning, I will allow you full access to her and let you examine the girl to your tiny heart's content."

"But tomorrow could be too late!" the Healer insisted. "The Gift could fail at any time! I haven't been able to assess her health for nearly a week, so there's no telling how much she's declined since then."

"You would do well to accept my gracious offer and examine her tomorrow," Hook purred, too used to the Healer's arguments to be much annoyed with her. She'd come every single day to ask to see Peter. Every single day he'd told her 'no' and every single day she'd left after spending copious amounts of time screaming at him to no avail. There was no way in perdition that Hook was going to allow her to see the conditions in which Pan was being kept. The bothersome fairy queen would have been back in a heartbeat, demanding the girl's release, and Hook didn't want to risk goading the pixies into doing something drastic to rescue their precious goddaughter.

Not that they'd seemed to care in the beginning, when they'd left her with him despite knowing he'd sworn to murder said godchild.

There was a knock at the door, and at Hook's barked command to enter, Smee stuck his head inside. "Beggin yer pardon, Cap'n Hook, sir, but th' water's hot."

"Thank you, Smee," Hook replied, giving the tired-looking bosun a nod. The old man wasn't well, not after Hook had had him lashed a few days ago for sleeping on watch and disobeying a direct order. The punishment had taken its toll on the old man, to the captain's dismay. Hook had relieved Smee of duty to recuperate, but after only a day of rest the bosun was back on his feet and going about his chores as if nothing had happened, despite the visible evidence that his back still troubled him. "Have Mason set up the tub in here while you see about the other arrangements I've ordered."

When Smee left once more, Hook returned his attention to the pixy. "Leave now and return tomorrow, madam, or else I'll forbid you from seeing Pan ever again."

The Healer nodded, accepting that the man would not be swayed. She argued with him only because her conscience wouldn't allow her to leave without at least trying to see Peter, but she also knew that pushing him too far would only make matters worse. "I will see you tomorrow then, Captain. Give Peter my best." With that the tiny fairy disappeared, returning to Tintagel to report to her Queen.

Hook grabbed a lantern and a blanket and made his way below deck to Peter's cabin, looking forward to seeing the girl again. He had plans for her and he couldn't wait to explain to her what those plans were. She'd apologized to him and while he was certain that she'd seen the error of her ways, he'd decided to leave her locked up for a few more hours to stew in her own uncertainty. It was imperative for the girl to learn that she would only get her way so long as she pleased her Captain, and that if she was disobedient then punishment would be swift and severe. He couldn't allow her to believe for an instant that she held any power over him. _James Hook_ was the master of this ship and he was her warden. As such, his word was law. While Hook had left her to worry about his plans for her, the captain had been busy making arrangements for the end of her confinement. Now that all was ready, it was time for his Kitten to come out to play.

He opened entered the small cabin, taking a moment to hang the lantern on the wall beside the door. His gaze immediately fell on Peter, who sat curled up in the same corner he'd left her in. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and her arms were cradled against her chest. Her head rested upon the wall, eyes closed, and by her soft breathing and lack of reaction to his presence he deduced that she was asleep. Smiling benevolently, Hook knelt beside the child and placed his hand upon her shoulder, shaking her gently to awaken her.

"Uncle!" Peter shouted, her arms flailing as she startled awake. She crammed herself further into the corner, wide eyes darting around the dimly lit room before settling on the dark bulk that loomed over her. "Don't hit me," she whispered, disoriented by the remnants of the dream that still clung to her, clouding her sense of the present.

"I'm not your uncle, Kitten," Hook soothed, rather put out at being confused with such a disreputable lout. He'd not liked Pan's earlier accusations that Hook and her uncle had something in common, and for her to actually confuse them now galled him deeply. As effective as this punishment had been, Hook vowed that he'd never let it go so far again. There was more than one way to skin this kitten without resorting to tactics used by lesser men. "I'm not going to hurt you either."

"Kitten?" Peter repeated, blinking owlishly at him as her frazzled mind tried to orient itself. She shook her head as the last vestiges of her dream faded from her mind and the pieces fell back into place. She recognized this voice, and only one man ever called her 'Kitten'. "Hook? I'm on the ship…" She flinched when a large hand settled on her forehead, lingering there for a moment before sliding down to cup her chin.

"No fever," Hook mused, his tone tinged with relief. For just a moment he'd feared that Peter was delirious, remembering that she'd been injured and that he'd never once seen to her health. He gave her chin a gentle squeeze, watching as the dazed look finally faded from her eyes. "Yes, my dear, you're still on my ship. Tell me, how would you like to come to my cabin and freshen up before dinner?"

"Your cabin?" Peter echoed, not believing what she was hearing. "You're going to let me out?" Her heart quickened with excited hope at the prospect of leaving her cell.

Hook chuckled as he pulled out his key and unlocked the chain that tethered her to the wall. He left the shackles on her ankles and wrists as a precaution. "Yes, child, I will – if you promise not to attempt to escape again and to obey me when I tell you to do something."

Peter nodded her agreement, not surprised in the least by his terms. She'd assumed he'd demand as much when she'd decided on her course of action. While the thought of obeying him had rankled her sensibilities just as much as the thought of apologizing when she wasn't sorry, she'd known doing both was a necessary sacrifice of her pride. The important thing was to get out of this cabin and set her real plans in motion, and she was prepared to meet most any of Hook's demands to do so. "I won't leave the ship without permission, Captain, and I'll follow your orders." She took the man's large hand and let him help her stand, turning away slightly once she was on her feet. Tinkerbell's long-standing rule of "clothes stay on" had instilled a deep modesty in her that even six days of nudity couldn't dispel.

"Wrap this about you," Hook told her, handing her the blanket he'd brought down for her. "Once you're cleaned up, I have a something more appropriate for you to wear." He waited for Peter to cover herself adequately and then offered her his arm. The girl let him escort her without hesitation, her elation at being allowed to walk though the door of her cabin overwhelming any stubborn pride she might still retain.

Her elation _and_ pride disappeared in a nauseating wave of dizziness when Peter was halfway down the corridor. One moment she was walking next to Hook (awkwardly, since she was still in shackles and trying to keep pace), and the next moment she was standing only by the grace of Hook's arm about her waist, holding her up. "I'm okay," she murmured, "it'll pass in a second."

With a low growl of irritation, Hook slipped his other arm behind the girl's knees and lifted her up, cradling her in his arms. She weighed next to nothing. _I shouldn't have starved her. She was barely eating before, and I've made things worse._ He shushed her half-hearted protestations and scoffed when she insisted that she could walk. "It would serve you right if I made you walk and you fell on your face in front of the men, but I'd prefer we arrive at my cabin as quickly as possible, Kitten."

Peter sighed but didn't resist as Hook carried her to the hatch. This was just one of many indignities she'd suffered lately, and it was by far the least of them. Once they emerged from the hatchway into the late-afternoon sun and Peter found herself blinded by the sunlight, she was quite content to bury her face against Hook's chest and let him carry her.

Smee was waiting for them in Hook's cabin, and as soon as they entered the bosun closed and locked the door. It was quite a relief for the girl when Hook deposited her in a chair, knelt before her and began unlocking her restraints.

"Thank you," she said, meaning it with every fiber of her being as she rubbed her chafed wrists.

Hook looked up at her as he slipped the last shackle off her ankle. "You'll be chained again before you leave my quarters, Kitten. Until we leave Neverland, I will not trust you to go about the ship unfettered unless you're locked securely in a cabin."

"You're going to lock me in that cell again?" Peter asked in dismay.

"You'll be confined in your quarters at night, but during the day you'll be allowed to roam the ship. Unless of course you disobey me, in which case I'll have to punish you again." He liked the way her eyes widened in horror at the prospect. If she was properly afraid of what he would do to her, she would think twice before defying him. "Now then," he continued, turning the conversation to more immediate concerns. He pointed to a corner of the cabin that was walled away by curtains. "There is a hot bath over there for you to clean up in. Take as much time as you please. If you need anything, Smee will assist you. Dinner will be served when you've finished with your bath. Once you're clean and fed, we will discuss your place on my ship and the new rules you will abide by. It's past time for you to acknowledge my sovereignty over you."

Peter bit back the many remarks that sprung into her mind regarding cold days in warm places before she'd acknowledge anything of the sort. She deeply resented Hook for what he'd done to her (though not nearly as much as she resented her godfather), and if she were in any position to fight she'd not hesitate to take him on. But she couldn't fight, not presently, so she kept her goal firmly in mind and merely nodded to him in acquiescence. Playing penitent for Hook was going to be a trial, she could see that now, but she was determined to win what trust she could from him in the time she had left.

A few minutes later Peter was immersed in hot water, luxuriating in the heat. Before Hook had captured her she'd never had an appreciation for being clean, but she couldn't deny it was a pleasure to feel the last vestiges of sand and salt that she'd accrued during her escape finally being washed away. She tended to her wounded arm first, carefully cleaning away the dried blood and grit and taking the time to inspect the damage. It embarassed her to do so, but she did have to call for Smee to help her with her back. She knew it wasn't terribly damaged and had long since quit hurting, but she wanted someone else to look at it for her. It relieved her to no end when Smee informed her that she only had a few shallow scratches, and when the bosun took up the rag and began to gently wash her back she felt an overwhelming desire to hug him.

 _I wish the water would stay hot forever…_ Peter mused as she lay back in the tub, deciding to relax in the heat for as long as it lasted. She felt better already and slowly the hope began to bloom within her that perhaps things wouldn't be so bad after all.

That hope was dispelled a few hours later.

* * *

For anyone that cares, the song that Peter is singing is an Irish tune called "Seven Drunken Nights." There are a few versions of it apparently, but this is the version I used:

Seven Drunken Nights

As I went home on Monday night, as drunk as drunk could be.  
I saw a horse outside the door, where my old horse should be.  
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me,  
who owns that horse outside the door, where my old horse should be?  
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk  
you silly old fool, and still you cannot see.  
That's a lovely sow that my mother sent to me.  
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more,  
but a saddle on a sow, sure, I never saw before.

As I went home on Tuesday night, as drunk as drunk could be.  
I saw a coat behind the door, where my old coat should be.  
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me,  
who owns that coat behind the door, where my old coat should be?  
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk  
you silly old fool, and still you cannot see.  
That's a woolen blanket that my mother sent to me.  
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more,  
but buttons on a blanket, sure, I never saw before.

As I went home on Wednesday night, as drunk as drunk could be.  
I saw a pipe upon the chair, where my old pipe should be.  
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me,  
who owns that pipe upon the chair where my old pipe should be.  
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk  
you silly old fool, and still you cannot see.  
That's a lovely tin-whistle, that my mother sent to me.  
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more,  
but tobacco in a tin-whistle, sure, I never saw before.

As I came home on Thursday night, as drunk as drunk could be.  
I saw two boots beside the bed, where my old boots should be.  
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me,  
who owns them boots beside the bed where my old boots should be.  
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk  
you silly old fool, and still you cannot see.  
They're two lovely flower pots my mother sent to me.  
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more,  
but laces in flower pots I never saw before.

As I came home on Friday night, as drunk as drunk could be.  
I saw a head upon the bed, where my old head should be.  
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me,  
who owns that head upon the bed, where my old head should be.  
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk  
you silly old fool, and still you cannot see.  
That's a baby boy, that my mother sent to me.  
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more,  
but a baby boy with his whiskers on, sure, I never saw before.

As I came home on a Saturday night, as drunk as drunk could be  
I spied two hands upon her breasts, where my old hands should be.  
I called to my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me,  
Who's hands are these upon your breasts, where my old hands should be?  
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk,  
you silly old fool, and still you cannot see  
'Tis nothing but a brassier my mother gave to me.  
Well, it's many a day I've traveled a hundred miles or more,  
but fingernails on a brassier, I never saw before.

Now when I came home on Sunday night, a little after three.  
I saw a man running out the door with his pants about his knee.  
So I called to my wife and I said to her: would you kindly tell to me,  
who was that man running out the door with his pants about his knee?  
Oh you're drunk, you're drunk,  
you silly old fool, and still you cannot see,  
T'was nothing but the tax collector the Queen sent to me.  
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more,  
But an Englishman that could last 'till three I never saw before.  



	31. Can We Be Friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** OMG, I can't believe I finally finished this chapter. It's only been half-written for the last 5 months! Inspiration and free time have not been lining up correctly, and I've basically been writer's blocked ever since I started my new job. I love my job, but it doesn't allow me the free time I used to have to sit and think of plots and dialogue, and write things down. I hope that you enjoy this chapter, those of you who are still reading it. I promise I'll try to update again in a more reasonable amount of time, and I apologize for taking so long on this one. BTW, this is my first update since the new rating system went into effect. Does T fit this story, or do you think I should move it to M? Let me know and I'll change it if I need to.

**A/N:** OMG, I can't believe I finally finished this chapter. It's only been half-written for the last 5 months! Inspiration and free time have not been lining up correctly, and I've basically been writer's blocked ever since I started my new job. I love my job, but it doesn't allow me the free time I used to have to sit and think of plots and dialogue, and write things down. I hope that you enjoy this chapter, those of you who are still reading it. I promise I'll try to update again in a more reasonable amount of time, and I apologize for taking so long on this one. BTW, this is my first update since the new rating system went into effect. Does T fit this story, or do you think I should move it to M? Let me know and I'll change it if I need to.

* * *

 **Chapter 31**

She was clean, her skin still tingly, her hair only slightly damp. She was bandaged, her wounded arm properly washed and wrapped in clean, white linen. She was clothed, wearing one of the simpler dresses that Smee had made. She was full, her belly happily digesting the surprisingly edible fare of bread and broth that Cookson had prepared. She was chained, staring in dismay at the strange, heavy shackles on her ankles that Billy Jukes had specially designed just for her, the cuffs weighted to sink her to the bottom of the bay if she tried to swim again. But most of all she was miserable, listening to Hook drone on and on while trying her best not to show the bitterness she still harbored towards him or the utter depression that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Are you listening to me, Kitten?" Hook snapped, irritated. The girl kept staring at her feet with a pained expression, and Hook couldn't fathom why she was having such a hard time paying attention. He was being patient with her while he explained the rules that would govern her life aboard his ship, yet she was sorely trying that patience by not showing him proper respect. "Pan!"

Peter's eyes snapped up to meet Hook's, and for an instant the man saw her brow furrow into a deep frown before she schooled her face back into a mask of polite interest. "I'm listening, Captain," she answered, her voice uncharacteristically respectful. "I am to take my meals either in my own room or with you, at your direction. If I'm invited to dine with you, I'll not complain if you make it a formal affair, and I will dress accordingly. I will mind my manners and follow the rules of etiquette that you teach me. I won't…"

"That's enough, Kitten," Hook interrupted, mollified that she apparently _had_ been paying attention. "It's good to know that your memory has vastly improved since your godfather removed those spells...though the rest of you seems to have degenerated somewhat." Her expression turned to one of hurt and her gaze dropped again. Hook sighed in frustration. He was still angry at her, but it was muted now, satisfied with her punishment and recent contrition. He rightfully didn't trust her, and it would be some time before she would be able to redeem herself sufficiently to convince him to take those shackles off her feet. But he was also, strangely, worried about her, and not just because of the dire pronouncement the pixy healer had made about the girl's health. Peter had seemed almost cheerful when she'd emerged from her bath and while she ate, obviously refreshed by the comforts of cleanliness and sustenance. Now, however, she was quiet and withdrawn... so respectful in fact that it made Hook's hackles rise. Peter Pan had _never_ been this well behaved; something was obviously wrong with her and he wanted to know what it was.

"What is the matter, Kitten?" he asked, deciding to be direct. If she were merely sulking, he'd send her back to her room for the night and allow her to vent her childishness there. If she felt ill or was otherwise distressed, he wanted to know what ailed her so that he could do something to alleviate it.

Peter snorted at Hook, looking up to meet his gaze again. "Are you being serious, or is this some new way for you to ridicule me, Captain?" When the man merely frowned at her, she shook her head in exasperation. "There's nothing wrong. I feel great, wonderful," she said flatly, not even trying to pretend to mean it. She'd apologized and promised to obey, and she fully intended to do her best to avoid provoking him, but she wasn't going to go out of her way to be friendly with him either. She'd just as soon kiss Oolok the Troll as trust Captain Hook again. "What could I possibly complain about?"

Hook's eyes narrowed at her dry tone. "Something is bothering you and I want to know what it is."

"There's nothing wrong. I'm fine," she repeated, rising from her chair. She raised her feet experimentally, testing the weights clamped about her ankles. She could walk, but they would definitely hamper her. The chain that connected the shackles would keep her from running anywhere, and she could already envision the many difficulties she was going to have navigating about the decks without getting snagged on something. "May we continue this tomorrow, Captain? I'd like to go out and get some fresh air."

Hook stood as the girl turned away, grabbing her arm to halt her. Peter gave a pained cry and tried to pull back, and it took the man a moment to realize he was squeezing her injury. He relaxed his grip and slid his hold down her arm to grasp her just below her elbow. "Not just yet, Pan," Hook growled, jerking her closer. "I've told you before: when I ask you a question, I want it answered. And I warned you about lying to me. Now, I'm fairly certain I can guess what is upsetting you, but I'd prefer you to tell me." She'd turned quiet when he'd clapped the shackles on her feet and he suspected she was sulking about being bound. _Surely she didn't think I'd be so foolish as to let her go about unfettered so she could jump ship again?_

Peter glared at him for a moment, remembering the night he'd become angry at her because she'd refused to answer his questions. It was the night she'd confided in him about Liam. Her anger at Hook flared as she remembered how he'd later used her confidence against her. "Why should I tell you anything, Hook?" she hissed, pulling against his grip. "I trusted you before and you betrayed me. I won't make that mistake again."

"If anyone's trust has been betrayed, Pan, it's mine!" Hook retorted. "I'm still astounded that I wasted all of my good intentions on such a thankless…"

"Lying, worthless little slut," Peter finished for him. "Yes, Captain, I know what you think of me: I'm not worth wasting a half-penny on; I've had more hands up my skirt than you've got on deck; I…"

"What's your point?" Hook snarled, dismayed to hear his words flung back at him. In the absence of his mind-blurring rage, they sounded much worse than he'd remembered.

Peter ceased pulling against the man and took a deep breath, trying to regain her calm. "Did you mean it?" she asked, looking up at him reproachfully. "After you saw my memories you said you didn't think I was disgusting... when I confided in you about Liam you said it wasn't my fault. Were you lying to me?" She didn't know what bothered her more: that he had said those hateful things to her, or that his opinion seemed to matter to her so much. She hadn't intended to bring this up, actually had hoped to avoid any further confrontation with the cruel pirate for the rest of her stay aboard his ship... but now that the matter had come up she found that she needed to know what he truly thought of her.

Hook let go of Peter's arm with an annoyed huff, fighting the odd burn of shame her question had ignited. "I shouldn't have said that to you. It is unseemly for a gentleman to say such things to a lady, much less a young girl." Hook felt his discomfort increase, realizing that Peter was very much still a young girl. He'd slandered her horribly and added injury to his insult by whipping her… actions which flew in the face of the chivalrous education his dear mother had striven to instill in him.

"Well, you said it," Peter insisted, lightly rubbing her hurt arm while glaring at him. "What I care about is if you _meant_ it."

"One thing you should have learned by now, Pan, is that when I'm angry, I strike out with any weapon at my disposal... and I aim to wound as deeply as I can. You made me very angry, and I wanted to hurt you as much as I could. That's why I said those repugnant things to you." He saw the angry hurt in her eyes and continued, knowing that he'd gone too far the night of her escape and that his words had been inexcusable. "No, Kitten, I didn't mean what I said." Hook knew that he should apologize to her – good form demanded that he kneel before her and beg for her forgiveness, that he lavish her with praise to soothe her injured feelings and warm her heart towards him again. But his knees wouldn't bend and the apology died on his lips, the remnants of his anger and bitterness getting in the way. Had she been any other girl he would have; but this was _Pan_ , his nemesis still, and he could not forgive her lightly.

Peter watched the man's face intently. He wasn't being completely forthcoming about something, she could see the conflict in his expression but she didn't know what it meant. Was he lying, or was there something else he was going to say and changed his mind? "You didn't mean to call me a lying, murdering whore? Thank you, Captain, that makes me feel so much better." Her voice dripped with sarcasm that she couldn't hide, and she decided that the sooner she left the man's company, the less likely she'd eventually lose her patience and say something she'd regret. "If you'll excuse me, I need some air."

Hook reached out his hand to place it upon her shoulder, but to his shock Peter winced and shied away. _She_ flinched _from me! Peter Pan has_ never _flinched from me, no matter how close I came to killing him!_ It dismayed him more to realize that it was the memory of her uncle she was really flinching from, because Hook had reminded her so much of that boorish sot.

"I wasn't going to hit you, Kitten," Hook said soothingly, turning his palm upwards in a peaceful gesture.

"How should I know that?" Peter replied, watching his hand carefully. "You whipped me, what's a slap or a punch after that?"

Hook closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself for what he knew he needed to say. "I shouldn't have flogged you. I do not regret recapturing you, and you deserved to be punished for your transgressions. You're lucky I decided not to keep you locked in your room until such time as we've left Neverland. I regret striking you in that manner... there are more appropriate ways I could have punished you. I promise you, Pan, I won't strike you again unless it's a fight _you've_ started."

"Don't worry, Hook," Peter replied, "that night was my last chance to get away and go home. I don't believe I have the strength left to try again, and I'd rather not spend my last days fighting you."

"You're not going to die, Pan."

"Oh?" Peter asked. "Did you change your mind and decide to take me ashore to rebond?" She sighed at Hook's frown, chiding herself for allowing herself to feel that brief spark of hope. "Of course not. You're too selfish to bear setting me free. You'd rather see me dead."

"I still hope that your godparents will find a replacement for you long before your possible demise becomes an issue," Hook corrected her. "That pixie healer will be by tomorrow to check on you, and she will monitor your health daily. We should have ample warning if your health begins to deteriorate."

A wild, slightly hysterical laugh was the girl's response to that plan. A moment later Peter bit her lip and shook her head, feeling as if she would weep. "You'll do what you must, Captain, as will I. May I go outside now? I've been cooped up too long and I'd like some fresh air." _Please say yes or I think I might go insane._

Hook stared at her intently and for a horrible moment she thought he'd tell her 'no' and make her listen to more of his lecture, but at long last the man gave her an indulgent smile and a nod.

"I'll escort you to your room when it is time for bed," he promised.

Peter let out a relieved breath and shuffled to the door, the heavy chains on her feet slowing her. Hook's voice made her pause as she stepped through the doorway. "Just a warning, Kitten, despite your assurances that you'll stay put. If you do manage to slip those restraints and attempt to escape again," he said matter-of-factly, "I _will_ pursue you. And when I recapture you, I'll not go through the trouble of bringing you back. I'll simply slit your throat and leave your sodden carcass to rot on the shore. Is that understood, my dear?"

"Aye, Captain," Peter answered, unfazed by his threat. She wasn't planning to escape again, so she had nothing to worry about. She'd only try to run if it was assured she would get away, but until then she didn't have time to play games. She had a gunner to concentrate on. Peter stepped outside, feeling a great sense of oppression slip from her as she breathed in the twilight air. Allowing herself a small smile of pleasure at being out in the open, Peter made her way to the ship's railing and stared out over the island. The sun had set and the last of the light was fading beyond the horizon, but she could still see the silhouette of the island against the darkening sky.

 _I miss you,_ she thought towards Neverland and felt her sentiment returned by the magical isle. It was hard, knowing she'd never go home again, but she distracted herself by going over Hook's new rules and planning how to work around them to accomplish her goals.

Hook stood in the doorway for a few moments, contemplating Peter as she leaned against the railing and stared across the water. While he seriously doubted that she could get away from him again, he still felt a slight apprehension that she might discover some unforeseen way to escape. Hook had the experiences of countless clashes with Pan to justify his concern – the cocky brat was too clever and too damned lucky to underestimate, and she had managed to slip free of every seemingly foolproof trap he'd ever set. The only reason he'd possessed her this long was because of the collar Oberon had used to tether her to the ship, and now that magical leash was gone. Hook's justified apprehension was the reason he'd taken certain precautions during Peter's incarceration, and the girl's weighted restraints was but one of them.

The captain turned his gaze to the crewmen on deck, noting with approval that each man was bent to his task yet keeping a weather eye on Pan. They'd all learned their lesson with Smee, and not a one of them wished to be held responsible should the girl manage to escape again. _Smee…_ Hook's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the bosun. Hook still felt a pang of anger at Smee's idiotic disloyalty. The bosun had not only slept on the watch and allowed Pan to escape, he'd further betrayed his captain's trust by having the audacity to _sing_ with the girl, despite Hook's order that no one communicate with her. No, Smee had certainly lost favor with Hook, and it was going to be quite awhile before the captain would be able to trust him as he once did.

"Cap'n?" a young voice called, and Hook turned his attention to Billy Jukes, who had just finished putting Long Tom away for the evening. The captain allowed himself a faint smile for the boy. Jukes, on the other hand, had performed admirably the night of Pan's escape, and Hook's esteem and trust in the boy had risen immeasurably. It was Jukes who'd discovered what the girl was up to, Jukes who had raised the alarm, and Jukes who had sunk her boat and thus returned her to Hook's tender care. If not for the gunner, the captain would have lost his prized possession, and Hook was most grateful for that. He trusted Jukes implicitly when it came to Pan, and it was a relief to know he had at least _one_ crewman he could depend on. Hook gestured towards Peter, indicating the boy should go to her. Billy replied with a nod, wiping his hands off on an old towel. When the gunner began making his way towards the girl, Hook returned to his cabin, confident that his Kitten was safe and secure.

Billy heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Hook disappear into his quarters. He was nervous enough as it was without having the imposing man watching his every move. He settled his weight against the railing a few feet away from Peter, trying to appear calm and non-threatening even though he felt as if a hundred pixies were fluttering in his stomach. _What do I say to her? What_ can _I say to her? She probably hates me! I shoulda let her go, I shoulda kept my promise to Slightly!_

"Evenin', Miss Pan," Billy greeted, deciding a friendly approach would be best. He found himself hoping that perhaps the girl had miraculously forgotten his role in her recapture.

Peter rolled her eyes. "So _that's_ what you call it when the sun goes down!" she answered dryly, venting the surge of resentful anger that had welled up within her when the gunner had interrupted her revere. "Thank you _so_ much for enlightening me."

Billy winced at the girl's sarcasm, knowing he deserved far worse than that for what he'd done. It didn't slip his mind that Pan had always been a dangerous adversary, though it was easy to forget at times now that she was in a dress. The knowledge that she was capable of exacting just vengeance upon him, added to the inexplicable nervousness he tended to feel around her, sorely tempted him to just give up now, cut his losses and run. But he _did_ want to make amends somehow, to find a way to keep Slightly's trust. Plus, the captain had made it clear that he expected Billy to get closer to Peter in order to keep an eye on her. The young gunner feared Hook's ire much more than he feared Pan's. He heaved a deep sigh and turned to face the girl.

Peter forced down her anger at Billy, focusing on her resolve to win the boy over. She needed Billy Jukes, needed his trust and, if possible, his friendship. She wasn't used to needing anyone, despite these last few weeks of dependence upon Hook for sanctuary, and it was so terribly hard to always hide how she truly felt. Pretending to be nice was like lying, and Peter had had enough of lying… but she had no choice, not if she wanted to save Neverland and her friends. She turned to look at him when she heard him sigh, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the blackened bruise on his right cheek, a reminder of how she'd sucker-punched the gunner the night of her escape. _I hope he's not mad at me for that,_ she mused.

"I'm sorry," they said in unison. Both paused a moment in confusion before again chorusing, "What?" Billy blushed and looked away.

"What is it, Mr. Jukes?" Peter asked as politely as she could, her mild annoyance at the gunner subsiding as she focused her will upon accomplishing her goal to win Billy over.

"I'm sorry, Miss Pan," Billy said quickly, eager to say his piece before his courage failed him. "I'm sorry for the hand I played in helpin' Hook catch you. I should'a just pretended I didn't hear ya that night and let you slip off."

Peter remained silent for a long while, considering this unexpected turn of events. She'd had no idea what Billy wanted, but she _never_ would have guessed that he'd want to apologize to _her_. She frowned slightly as she wondered about his apology, but after a few long moments her patience wore out. "Why?" she asked, honestly at a loss and needing to understand the young pirate's motivations so that she could determine the best approach in befriending him. _I smell an opportunity here…_

"Because I like you," Billy blurted without thinking, his face blanching with horror at the realization of what he'd just said. Billy felt his face flame with sudden heat and he dropped his gaze, embarrassed and feeling more awkward then ever before. _That's not what I meant to say!_ "I mean… It's just that…" he stammered, flustered. He'd meant to tell the girl about his friendship with Slightly, to tell her about the promise of protection he'd made to the lost boy. _She's going to laugh at me now and I'm going to just_ die.

"You like me?" Peter repeated, feeling a sudden surge of hope. _He's not mad at me! He doesn't hate me or think I'm horrible like everyone else does!_ Peter smiled and stepped closer to the gunner. She'd thought that she would have to debase herself at Jukes's feet, to jump though untold hoops in an effort to win the boy's good will. To have the boy apologizing and confessing to actually _liking_ her was an unexpected god-send. "Would you like to be friends then, Billy?" If he wished to be friendly with her, if he would come to trust her and be willing to help her, then things would be so much easier for her. _Maybe I won't even have to apologize for hitting him._

"Friends?" Billy repeated, his scattered thoughts coalescing around that concept. Hook wanted Billy to make friends with Peter, to win the girl's confidence at all costs so that he could keep an eye on her. Even without the Captain's blessing, though, Billy would still have wanted to be in Pan's good graces, to be close to her and maybe even have her like him back. "Aye, Miss Pan, I'd like us to be friends."

"I don't know," Peter mused, her tone playfully doubtful. If Billy was this eager to apologize and play nice (and it was obvious from the way he acted that _he_ was the supplicant here), then Peter intended to take full advantage of her unexpected position of power. "You _say_ that you're sorry, but how do I know its not some kind of trick? You tried to _kill_ me! How can you like someone that you were shooting at with a _cannon_? Did Hook put you up to this?"

"I _am_ sorry, Miss Pan, please believe me!" Billy pleaded, keeping his tone low so that the other men wouldn't hear him. He'd never live their teasing down. "I really do like you; that's why I didn't want you to leave and that's why I helped Hook catch you. I swear, if I'd of known he'd hurt ya like that, I wouldn't have done what I did." He thought he saw doubt in the girl's eyes and held up his hand to forestall any objections. "A token, Miss Pan, of my sincerity," he offered, reaching into the pouch on his belt and pulling out his gift to her.

"My pipes!" Peter exclaimed, excitedly reaching for the object Jukes held out to her. "How did you find them? There were with the rest of my things and sank with the dinghy!"

"Cap'n had us salvage the dinghy the next morning," Billy explained, Peter's obvious delight igniting a sense of satisfaction in his heart and restoring some of his confidence. "I found the sack with the bulk of the wreckage on the beach, tucked under one of the seats. We were told to fix yer quarters back up while you were havin' a bath, and I put the rest of your things on yer bed." He didn't mention that it had been Hook's idea to return the items to the girl, as a way to garner her trust.

Peter ran her fingers across her beloved pipes, afraid to believe they were real. She'd thought all of her things were lost. "Thank you, Billy," she said softly, giving the gunner a happy smile. "For giving me this back, I do believe we can be the best of friends."

Billy grinned in relief. "So you forgive me then?"

Peter pursed her lips and cocked her head sideways, considering the gunner with a mischieveous gleam in her eyes. "I didn't say that," she drawled, grinning, "I just said we could be friends." Billy's face crumpled into bewildered disappointment, and Peter stepped closer and continued, pressing her advantage before he could speak.

"I'll forgive you, under one condition," she offered, standing toe to toe with him and staring him straight in the eyes, trying to convey the seriousness of her proposal to him.

"Condition?" Billy repeated, feeling very awkward and very _warm_ at his proximity to the girl. He stared into her large blue eyes, oblivious to everything else around him.

"One day very soon, I'm going to ask you to grant me a wish. Promise me that you'll do what I ask when that day comes and I'll forgive you for anything you've ever done."

The ambiguity of that request sent warning signals through Billy's bemusement, making him blink and step back. "Can't help ya escape, Miss Pan," he said, his voice sharp with disappointment in the truth of his words. He would help her, if he thought there was a way to survive Hook's wrath afterwards. "Cap'n's got the only key to yer chains and yer door."

Peter laughed, shaking her head. "I know better than ask you for that! Hook would kill you… kill me too if it didn't work. No, I'm not going to ask you to do anything that would get you in trouble, and I won't ask you to do anything that you can't do." She sighed at Billy's doubtful look and turned away slightly, staring out across the bay towards the island. "I'm afraid I might die, Mr. Jukes, and I just want to know that someone on this ship will honor any last wish I might have. Will you do that for me?"

"Ah, s-sure," Billy stuttered, thrown by her declaration. _Die?_ "But don't worry, Miss Pan, you'll be fine. You don't look sick or anything and as long as you don't piss the Cap'n off again I doubt he'd kill ya. You'll be grantin' _my_ last requests long a'fore you've got any reason to make yer own."

She didn't argue with him, deciding that she really didn't feel like explaining to the gunner about her gift and what it was doing to her, even though he'd be the one most likely to understand after seeing the magical world with his own eyes. The important thing was that he'd promised to grant her wish… _Of course, he's a pirate, so I can't be sure that he'll_ keep _his promise. I have to stay on his good side – he won't help me when the time comes if he hates me._

Peter turned towards the gunner and grinned. "I forgive you, Mr. Jukes!" she laughed, not having to fake her joy at his agreement. "We'll be great friends, Billy, and as friends you should stop calling me Miss Pan. My name is Peter."

"I think I better stick with Miss Pan ," Billy returned, his lips turning up into a smile in response to Peter's enthusiasm. "Cap'n Hook'll gut me if he hears me call you that." The boy thought for a moment, curious about the girl he'd known for so long as a boy. "What's yer real name, Miss Pan? I can't imagine anyone'd name their daughter Peter."

The girl's face lost its happy expression and her eyes became somewhat distant, memories of long ago calling to her. She shook them away and sighed, turning to lean once more upon the railing. "I don't want to talk about that, Mr. Jukes. The girl that went by that name's been dead a long time. Maybe one day, if we've really become good friends, I'll tell you who she was."

"I didn't mean to upset ya, Miss Pan," Billy said apologetically, wondering why something like that would be such a sore topic, but understanding from experience the need to keep the past buried. He had his own demons he was perfectly happy to ignore, and couldn't fault Peter for doing the same.

"It's alright, Mr. Jukes," Peter replied, staring out over the water. "I think I'd just like to enjoy the fresh air for awhile before Codfish sends me back to that prison cell he calls my quarters." She barely noticed when Billy took his leave, too lost in the memories of days long past.

Sometime later, when the stars sparkled brightly in the pitch black sky, she was pulled from her reverie by the island's soft call of need. _I can't come back,_ she thought towards the island, _but I'll make sure you and everyone else will be okay. Mr. Jukes is Pan-worthy and he'll take care of you when I'm gone._ Her hand settled over her heart, where the Gift was housed, trying in vain to sooth the ache that was becoming near-constant as time wore on. _You'll go to Billy soon, I've just got to make him ready for you first, or he'll reject you and we'll both die._

She smiled briefly at the thought of a Billy Pan, glancing over her shoulder to watch the boy sitting with his shipmates, telling stories around a small fire in one of Cookson's pots. _He's a pirate, and hardly innocent and pure… but then, neither was I when they chose me, and I did a good job of it until my secret came out._

The small group of pirates looked surprisingly friendly and warm, and Peter felt a yearning for companionship swell within her. She walked towards them without even thinking about it, but as soon as she stepped within the light of their fire Hook's door opened and the Captain strode out. His piercing eyes searched the deck for an instant before locking upon her, and he gave her a smile that held no warmth.

"It's bedtime, Pan," Hook announced as he strode up to her. His posture was menacing, and Peter quickly suppressed the urge to argue, realizing that the man fully expected her to fight. _I won't give him a reason to lock me away again. I have to be able to talk to Billy._

"Aye, aye, Captain," she replied, turning away from the men with a regretful sigh. She held out her arm for Hook to take and felt a touch of smugness at the surprised look on the captain's face. _See? You DON'T know me as well as you think you do!_ She maintained her compliant façade as Hook escorted her below, pretending that this was all some great joke she was playing on Hook and _not_ that she was helpless as his prisoner and forced to do his bidding. It helped… somewhat.

The room looked as it had before her escape, furnished with a bed, a trunk, a small table with chairs and a vanity. The bed was turned down and seemed, after sleeping nearly a week on a cold floor, immensely inviting. Peter sat on it and smiled lightly at the thought of a comfortable night's sleep. Her smile faded an instant later when Hook knelt in front of her and grabbed her ankle, eliciting a startled cry from the girl.

"Would you rather sleep in chains, Kitten?" Hook teased the girl, maintaining a firm grip on her foot.

"Of course not," Peter returned, stilling so that the man could release her from the heavy chains. She didn't even try to hide her sigh of relief once the weights were removed from her ankles and wrists.

Hook frowned as he examined the girl's reddened skin where the restraints had already begun to chafe, realizing that the heavy restraints were going to cause Peter serious problems if she had to wear them for too long. "I'll have Jukes line these with something to keep them from rubbing," he murmured, gathering up the chains and turning to leave. "I'll fetch you in the morning, my dear. Sleep well."

"Leave the light!" Peter blurted as he approached the lantern, the thought of yet another night spent locked in this room unable to see making her sick to her stomach. "Please, I don't like the dark." She hated the pleading tone to her voice, but she hated the darkness even more.

Hook, on the other hand, felt more than a little satisfaction at her tone of voice. His Kitten was again asking him for something, and doing it in a most un-Pannish way by saying 'please'. "Since you've been such a good girl today, Kitten, I'll let you keep your light." He gave her a warm smile before making sure the lantern was secured and wouldn't cause a fire. "You see? I can be a very reasonable man if you only behave. The sooner you learn that lesson, the sooner you'll discover that life with me needn't be unpleasant." Peter didn't respond, staring at him with and expression that seemed to be relief tinged with defiance. "Good night," he bid her and left the cabin, locking the door behind him.

Peter shook her head, emotions warring within her and leaving her suddenly exhausted. She was worried about her future, yet relieved that her plan to make Billy her heir had gotten of to such a grand start. She was angry at Hook and frustrated by her resolve to keep her temper in check and to be as obedient towards him as she could manage, a trick she was long out of practice performing. Yet she was, oddly, somewhat grateful towards the man. He had, after all, been there for her when everyone else had abandoned her, and had been someone she'd come to depend upon and even to trust. _But he's_ Hook _! He can't be trusted, he proved that when he refused to let me go home because he was more interested in owning me dead than letting me live free._ But she missed the man she'd thought cared about her, the man who had reassured her and comforted her, the man who had cared for her when she was injured and protected her from her godparents' wrath.

 _That man didn't really exist. He did those things for his own selfish reasons, not because he cared about me. No one really cares about me, or I wouldn't be here right now. Hook just wants to own me, as a way to punish me for cutting off his hand. My godparents only want me because they can't find someone to take my place. My Lost Boys don't even miss me I bet… I wonder if Nibs ever came back to see me?_

 _It doesn't matter,_ she told herself, pushing away her depressing thoughts. _Concentrate on Billy from now on, he's our only hope._ Peter closed her eyes, planning how best to gain the boy's trust and trying to think of all the different ways she could try to make him comfortable with the thought of using magic. Eventually she slipped into sleep, and dreamed dreams of flying through the forests of Neverland, Billy gliding effortlessly by her side.


End file.
